"I have been a stranger in a strange land"
It wasn't bliss. What was bliss
but the ordinary life? She'd spend hours
in patter, moving through whole days
touching, sniffing, tasting . . . exquisite
housekeeping in a charmed world.
And yet there was always
more of the same, all that happiness,
the aimless Being There.
So she wandered for a while, bush to arbor,
lingered to look through a pond's restive mirror.
He was off cataloging the universe, probably,
pretending he could organize
what was clearly someone else's chaos.
That's when she found the tree,
the dark, crabbed branches
bearing up such speechless bounty,
she knew without being told
this was forbidden. It wasn't
a question of ownership—
who could lay claim to
such maddening perfection?
And there was no voice in her head,
no whispered intelligence lurking
in the leaves—just an ache that grew
until she knew she'd already lost everything
except desire, the red heft of it
warming her outstretched palm.
Rita Dove's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem ("I have been a stranger in a strange land" by Rita Dove )
The Road Not Taken
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Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
Did you read them?
- Inner Power, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
- Start anew, gajanan mishra
- BACK TO SCHOOL, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Melancholia (haiku), hap rochelle
- قصه ماه 1, ALI MOSLEHI
- life is fair........., RIC S. BASTASA
- when you are alone you become a thinker, RIC S. BASTASA
- all dirty clothes wrapped in cellophane, RIC S. BASTASA
- the way i want it, RIC S. BASTASA
- an early morning canvass, RIC S. BASTASA