a new year
January 2, 2012
little house in garden, garden, poetry, poetry, seasons, seasons

He remembers the day the field burned,

not, he thinks, by accident.

Something deep within him said: I can live with this,

I can fight it after a while.

 

The terrible moment was the spring after his work was erased,

when he understood that the earth

didn't know how to mourn, that it would change instead.

And then go on existing without him.

 

 from Averno by Louise Glück

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