Grand Army Plaza

For June

here

near the entrance to the subway

the underground

we stand in each other’s eyes

once lovers

now friends

we have walked the five or six blocks

from your house to

here

where the night is not dark

where the light from the street

shines on the small wet spot

on the head of your dog

who pulls slightly on the leash

you hold

here

with one hand

and it is the other that i think

about shaking before i leave

now that we are friends

and women love women

and men love men

and many of us are alone

despite it all

here

in grand army plaza

i think of soldiers departing

to fight a civil war

to be wounded and to die

i think of a man

and a woman

lovers

now saying farewell

here

i take you in my arms

hatless and out of uniform

like an unlisted man

afraid of going south

Notes:

“Grand Army Plaza” is reprinted from Collected Poems of E. Ethelbert Miller (Willow Books, 2016) and is part of the folio “E. Ethelbert Miller: Friendship Is What Keeps Us Whole.” Read the rest of the folio in the November 2025 issue of Poetry.

Source: Poetry (November 2025)