In memory of the poet Adrienne Rich for her gift of burning

You’re wondering if I’m lonely:

O.K., 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

The poem ends with a vision of anger as a liberating energy:

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

Song from “Diving Into the Wreck”

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.