I've rediscovered one of my favorite poets, and I didn't think I could do that. So thanks to the Elevens for the collected poems. I had no idea!
How did i bear it-how could I possibly as a child,
On my narrow shoulders and pipe stem legs have supported
The fragrance and colour of the frangible hour, the deep
taste of the shallow dish?-It is not as if
I had thought, being a child, that the beautiful thing would
last: it passed as I looked at it,
Except, of course in memory-memory is the seventh
Colour in the spectrum. But I knew about-when even then,
The grapevine growing over the grey rock-the shock
Of beauty seen, noticed, for the first time-
I remember it well-and I remember where I stood-on which
side of the rock.
Already the triangular leaves on the grape-trellis are green; they
have given me no time
To report their colour as it was when I first
Came upon them, wondering if the strawberry rhubarb was up,
looking for the pretty, feared hoof-marks of deer
In the asparagus.
How did I bear it?-Now-grown up and encased
In the armor of custom, after years
Of looking at loveliness, forewarned and face to face, and no
time and too prudent
At six in the morning to accept to unendurable embrace,
I come back from the garden into the kitchen, and take off my
is heavy and high, wetting the sock above the shoe-but I
The housework yet.