Poetry, April 20

[jade_sabre]

I like this poem a lot. But I promise, I liked coming down from the trees too. From Kate Northrop:





Hiding
—to my sister

Because the moon in late October made landmarks glow: the broken
gate, our yard

full of stones, the attic window

suddenly foreign, across its face
a blue dissolve. In spite of that, the farm

remained an arrangement (barn
behind the house, pond
across the road) and a girl sometimes

feels torn. We turned our dresses inside out,
ran into a grove. We played

you're blind, Molly, try to find me.
It was a family game: get left

in darkness. I climbed
up into the oak, listened for your voice
until my name became

a sound from the other side, from the poor
order of the world. I came back

because I had to. And believe me, you who are fragile
and so faithful, I hated to return

materializing through trees.

Comments

[styromgalleries.livejournal.com]

I...I think I like this too. I always hesitate before saying anything about a poem at all ever because I don't read them I don't get them I don't know anything about them, but I'm trying to appreciate them more lately. So...yeah. I like this. :) (also I think my sentence runs on too long, but it's the last week of classes and screw it)