After Reading Chekhov I Go For A Walk in Town

by J.R. Solonche

Knowing almost all, I put the book
in the pocket of my jacket. I feel
them slap, Lady with Lapdog and Other Stories
against my thigh and hip as I walk

in the light. I feel light of heart.
I feel light-headed as if just given
a clean bill of health by my physician.
I pass the men and women in the street

who stop to look in the glass
of shop windows, the men and women
who stop at corners for the light to change,
while the men and women with business

more urgent than mine pass me.
They walk with haste, go secretly to meet
their lovers in dark, airless restaurants.
I recognize them now, yet I still need to see

the terrible denial of the known
in the clearest of eyes before I pause
to look in the mirror of the bookshop window,
to look at failure in the face, before I walk on.