(spoken in the voice of an unhappy angel, which seems like a cheesy concept, i know. but it works. for the whole poem, and number 6, go here: Poetry Daily.)
"Ah, whom can we turn to
in our need? Not Angels, not humans,
and the sly animals see at once
how little at home we are
in the interpreted world. That leaves us
some tree on a slope, to which our eyes returned
day after day; leaves us yesterday's street
and the coddled loyalty of an old habit
that liked it here, lingered, and never left."
3 comments:
Leaves me with a hopeless feeling. Sad.
"and the coddled loyalty of an old habit that liked it here, lingered, and never left" -- where do you find these? beautiful --although I guess it is sad when I think of the habits I turn to sometimes....
gotta read the whole poem, mama.
but maybe that will just make you more sad ... i don't know.
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