Glucking
I have on my lap right now The Wild Iris and here is something from it.
The Hawthorn Tree
by Louise GluckSide by side, not
hand in hand: I watch you
walking in the summer garden–things
that can’t move
learn to see; I do not need
to chase you through
the garden; human beings leave
signs of feeling
everywhere, flowers
scattered on the dirt path, all
white and gold, some
lifted a little by
the evening wind; I do not need
to follow where you are now,
deep in the poisonous field, to know
the cause of your flight, human
passion or rage: for what else
would you let drop
all you have gathered?
Those you’ve let drop, are they really worth picking up again?
Moving on.
