April 1, 2012

Poem: Song, by Adrienne Rich

Adrienne Rich

You’re wondering if I’m lonely:
OK then, yes, I’m lonely
as a plane rides lonely and level
on its radio beam, aiming
across the Rockies
for the blue-strung aisles
of an airfield on the ocean

You want to ask, am I lonely?
Well, of course, lonely
as a woman driving across country
day after day, leaving behind
mile after mile
little towns she might have stopped
and lived and died in, lonely

If I’m lonely
it must be the loneliness
of waking first, of breathing
dawn’s first cold breath on the city
of being the one awake
in a house wrapped in sleep

If I’m lonely
it’s with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore
in the last red light of the year
that knows what it is, that knos it’s neither
ice nor mud nor winter light
but wood, with a gift for burning

I found out that Adrienne Rich had passed away at a Knicks game in the middle of Madison Square Garden and for a moment I felt terribly terribly angry that no one in the stadium cared that one of the great political activists/ poets of our century had left us but everyone knew that Jeremy Lin had injured his knee. This is one of my favourite poems of hers.

Sorry for the unintentionally long break between posts, I'm currently on spring break on the East Coast but will return with pictorial updates soon!

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