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Body my house
my horse my hound
what will I do
when you are fallen
Where will I sleep
How will I ride
What will I hunt
Where can I go
without my mount
all eager and quick
How will I know
in thicket ahead
is danger or treasure
when Body my good
bright dog is dead
How will it be
to lie in the sky
without roof or door
and wind for an eye
With cloud for shift
how will I hide?
May Swenson
Read poems about / on: horse, dog, house, sleep, wind, sky, hunting
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User Rating: |
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6.7
/10
(22 votes) |
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Click here to write your comments about this poem (Question by May Swenson)
Percy Dovetonsils (3/6/2007 4:25:00 PM)
May Swenson (1913-1989)
I wonder what it would be like
to love May Swenson
now that she hides in the wind.
Lying in the sky
wearing clouds for a shift
she solemnly smiles
through the mist.
I hear her throb
in the blood
of my ears.
She tickles
the hairs
on my wrist.
“You’re not alone
it only seems
that way.
I’m with you
every moment
of the day.” |
Laurie Carter (12/29/2006 1:45:00 PM)
'Question' affects me deeply because Ms. Swenson doesn't provide an answer, or a tidy solution, and it helps that her use of poetic devices is masterful.
This poem is heartbreakingly sad and poignant, it makes me run to Gerard Manley Hopkins for comfortable answers, even though his 'Margaret are you grieving...' has the same theme. |
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May Swenson
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