To My Daughter in a Red Coat

By Anne Stevenson b. 1933 Anne Stevenson

Late October. It is afternoon.

My daughter and I walk through the leaf-strewn

Corridors of the park

In the light and the dark

Of the elms' thin arches.

Around us brown leaves fall and spread.

Small winds stir the minor dead.

Dust powders the air.

Those shrivelled women stare.

At us from their cold benches.

Child, your mittens tug your sleeves.

They lick your drumming feet, the leaves.

You come so fast, so fast.

You violate the past,

My daughter, as your coat dances.

Source: Poems 1955-2005 (Bloodaxe Books, 2005)

Biography

Born in Cambridge, England, Anne Stevenson moved between the United States and the United Kingdom numerous times during the first half of her life. While she considers herself an American, Stevenson qualifies her status: “I belong to an America which no longer really exists.” Since 1962 she has lived mainly in the U.K., including Cambridge, Scotland, Oxford, and, most recently, North Wales and Durham.

Intersections and borders . . .

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