Jane Kenyon Poems
- Having It Out With Melancholy 1FROM THE NURSERY When I ...
- Otherwise I got out of bed on two strong legs. It might ...
- Let Evening Come Let the light of late afternoon shine ...
- Happiness There's just no accounting for happiness, or the ...
- Briefly It Enters, And Briefly... I am the blossom ...
- The Suitor We lie back to back. Curtains lift and ...
- The Blue Bowl Like primitives we buried the cat with his ...
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Having It Out With Melancholy
1FROM THE NURSERY
When I was born, you waited
behind a pile of linen in the nursery,
and when we were alone, you lay down
on top of me, pressing
the bile of desolation into every pore.
And from that day on
everything under the sun and moon
made me sad -- even the yellow
wooden beads that slid and spun
along a spindle on my crib.
You taught me to exist without gratitude.
You ruined my manners toward God:
"We're here simply to wait for death;
the pleasures of earth are overrated."
I only appeared to ...