| |
In the end, I made myself
Known to your wife as
A god would, in her own house, in
Ithaca, a voice
Without a body: she
Paused in her weaving, her head turning
First to the right, then left
Though it was hopeless of course
To trace that sound to any
Objective source: I doubt
She will return to her loom
With what she knows now. When
You see her again, tell her
This is how a god says goodbye:
If I am in her head forever
I am in your life forever.
Louise Gluck
Read poems about / on: house, god, grief, life
|
|
User Rating: |
|
7.6
/10
(5 votes) |
|
|
|
Free
Poetry E-Book:
E-mail this poem to e friend