Thursday, December 10, 2009

Winter Tree

Cut from a watercolor done by Janet Lindell


You're wondering if I'm lonely:
OK then, yes, I'm lonely

as a plane rides lonely and level
on its radio beam, aiming
across the Rockies
for the blue-strung aisles
of an airfield on the ocean.

You want to ask, am I lonely?

Well, of course, lonely
as a woman driving across country
day after day, leaving behind

mile after mile
little towns she might have stopped
and lived and died in, lonely

If I'm lonely

it must be the loneliness
of waking first, of breathing
dawns' first cold breath on the city
of being the one awake
in a house wrapped in sleep

If I'm lonely
it's with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore
in the last red light of the year
that knows what it is, that knows it's neither
ice nor mud nor winter light
but wood, with a gift for burning

Adrienne Rich
Diving Into The Wreck

No comments:

Post a Comment

Share your ideas and reflections