Poem January 11, 1941 Issue

"Who is thine enemy?"*

DORIS ANNE PEEL

I CANNOT look to time, to place,
to see his face;
he is not there
or anywhere
outside the door,
outside the inmost privacy of me:
for sure as sure
my anger builds his height,
my pride and hate and fright
define him, part by part,
and while he lives in heart,
while looms in mind,
there is no peace, no certainty,
for he is me
and I am he.
Looking a thousand times elsewhere
will nothing find:
he is not there.