This blog contains 1000 posts. Posting (in Blogger) has become unwieldy.
Your blogista has ceased adding new posts. My still-active links are here.

Wednesday, June 10, 1998

separation

separation

Round the circle of her garden she walks, and stops
again, taking in, as one absent from her own
senses yet unwilling to forego their gifts,

the half-dimmed light of a low, prepubescent
moon, its influence on lingering clouds,
some few stars brave enough to compete with

mercury vapor or halogen or tungsten,
and taking in also the pungent garlic border,
its enclosure of bean vines, celery, snap peas:

celebratory things, even in this half-light,
this dew of forgotten hours. Her feet,
though well shod, warn her of night, by noting

slow seep of dew round toes and heels,
while her hand, brushing past night-blooming
jasmine, shrinks from chill. These, and trees

she has encouraged -- apple, plum, pear, cherry,
maple, ash -- seem to her reproachful,
watching, as it were, her heart begin to slip

to a life they cannot share. Beyond, in a stillness
of curtained rooms, her children,
innocent of this need, dream of loss.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails