Anne Sexton ~ Pinterest.com ~ by PointBlankDesign
I’m reading “Eighteen Days Without You” by Anne Sexton
What’s important –
how the day’s sad events
influence our inner
world, even when
we’re so far from
feeling the sorrow
because the happiness
is our given natural
gift, and else –
we’re loved…
So, the first, second days
made me got starving
for kiss, though in
the book it was
goodbye kiss
after which she slept
under bird’s shadow,
and I was wondering
when shadow’s dying
every day, do we
necessarily feel
the loss?
think about:
everyday loss-pattern
makes us
insensitive
to our real personal
failure, or what’s real
anyway?
Dead rabbit on the road
on 3rd day
just added the
sorrow to what
I see everyday…
The last leave in December,
light rain, ice-storm –
hope they are yet events
of far, far away…
but can I trust
temporary mild Minnesota’s
days….
Searching like walking
along the other
December pages
I find facsimile of
past winter snow
weeks after weeks
birds’ traces
under the window,
‘the world sealed in’
sounds like revelation
the white envelope
of human content,
the vagaries of the
momentous
dictate some
bottled choking mood…
Though I’ll remember
the cicadas in October
back then at South
you asked me to play…
how I got chilly and
hesitated…
Then I think
you're mostly a fish
laying low
no ripples above you
except the beams
highlighting the
inspiration and
wisdom of vacuum…
and I realize that
a world exists in us
rather than opposite way…
I’m bending, arching, turning
(tenacity exercise)
the page, last 18th day…
painting face & diagnosing
love as disease,
asking to go slowly, delicately
with music, for which
she and I was born…
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