A story
Absence is homesick. Absence wants a home.
but Absence left without a glance at home.
Home tried to hold in Absence’s despite,
Home caved, shuddered, yet held
without Absence’s consent. Home took a walk
in several parks, Home shivered
in outlying boroughs, slept on strange floors,
cried many rifts of music, many words.
Home went out to teach school, Home studied pain control
Home learned to dive and came up blind with blood
Home learned to live on each location
But whenever Absence called, Home had to answer
in the grammar of Absence.
Home would hitch-hike
through flying snow, Home would roast meat,
light candles, to withstand the cold. Home washed the dishes
faithfully. But Absence
always knew when to call.
What if Absence calls
and a voice answers
in the accent of Home?
--Adrienne Rich, Time's Power: Poems 1985-1988
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2 comments:
what a lovely way to begin my day in deep thoughts. adrienne rich is genius. i'm spending the rest of the day writing in lower case.
I'm so glad you've posted again, Oren, and such a beautiful and haunting poem. Can't wait for more!
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