Two Ships


I saw her on Columbus Day,
Someone like me.

She walked in front of me,
Two or three stores ahead.
Purse, shopping bags,
And a cellular phone, at which she stared intently.

I knew she was like me;
Too tall, too broad,
The way she stood.

She walked in front of me,
So I was allowed to notice her.

I turned a corner, and turned away.

I saw her again.
She surprised me, walking toward me this time,
Her face turned away,
Since she was not allowed to notice me,
Another friend who might have been,
Someone like me.



Ann Williams

Trans woman living on an island of reason in a sea of hysteria.