Autumn Clean-Up
There she is in her garden
bowing & dipping, reaching
stretched with her shears --
a Ceres commanding forces
no one else any more fears.
The garden's not enclosed.
It encloses her. It helps her
hold her joy. (She is
too shy for transports.)
It helps keep her whole
when grief for unchangeable reasons
waits to gnaw a tunnel in her
to run around wild in,
grinding its little teeth,
eager to begin.
from Marie Ponsot's The Bird Catcher
That's it. Exactly.
ReplyDeleteI love this poem. Especially the last part.
ReplyDelete