1448: Dust | Dorianne Laux
"Dust"
Dorianne Laux
Someone spoke to me last night
told me the truth. Just a few words,but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor --
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like fine powder, like dust.
And I wasn't elated or frightened,
but simple rapt, aware.
That's how it is sometimes --
God comes to your window,
all bright and black wings,
and you're just too tired to open it.
On this day in...
2011: "The Rider" by Naomi Shihab Nye
2010: "Fog" by Carl Sandburg
2009: Weekend, no poem
2008: "To An Athlete Dying Young" by A.E. Housman
all my senses hungry and filled/at once like a pitcher with light
Dorianne Laux
Someone spoke to me last night
told me the truth. Just a few words,but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor --
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like fine powder, like dust.
And I wasn't elated or frightened,
but simple rapt, aware.
That's how it is sometimes --
God comes to your window,
all bright and black wings,
and you're just too tired to open it.
On this day in...
2011: "The Rider" by Naomi Shihab Nye
2010: "Fog" by Carl Sandburg
2009: Weekend, no poem
2008: "To An Athlete Dying Young" by A.E. Housman
all my senses hungry and filled/at once like a pitcher with light