Monday, November 28, 2011

The Thing Is

The thing is I can't write poetry (or I can't write, period). But I love poetry, and a few weeks ago I stumbled upon this gem and I thought I'd like to share it with the four or five people who read my blog. Haha.


The Thing Is
by Ellen Bass

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again. 


"The Thing Is" by Ellen Bass, from Mules of Love.

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