Snowdrops by Louise Gluck
Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light of earliest spring -
afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy
in the raw wind of the new world.
1 comment:
Hey Kirsten -- Thanks for checking out our blog and letting your readers (more than two, I'm sure!) know about us. FolkFoods is an exciting adventure...
I love this poem by Louise Gluck. I remember hearing that she wrote her book, The Wild Iris, in matter of weeks -- a feat that reminds me of Spring: the potential, the incubation, the overflow. The snowdrops are sending up green shoots in our backyard. Hope Spring is emerging in your corner of the world... Shana
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