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User Rating:
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5.4
/10
(30 votes)
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My wedding-ring lies in a basket
as if at the bottom of a well.
Nothing will come to fish it back up
and onto my finger again.
; It lies
among keys to abandoned houses,
nails waiting to be needed and hammered
into some wall,
telephone numbers with no names attached,
idle paperclips.
; It can't be given away
for fear of bringing ill-luck.
; It can't be sold
for the marriage was good in its own
time, though that time is gone.
; Could some artificer
beat into it bright stones, transform it
into a dazzling circlet no one could take
for solemn betrothal or to make promises
living will not let them keep? Change it
into a simple gift I could give in friendship?
Denise Levertov
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, January 03, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: wedding, marriage, fish, change, fear, time, fishing, house
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