October 31, 2013After My Copy of Levertov’s Life in the Forest
I bought Life in the Forest
young, in love with Levertov’s
essays. I had not yet read
her poems. And Life remains
unread, not for lack of want,
but the blindness of the press,
the machine and proof-reader,
left blank every other page.
Some poems never end, some
do not begin, and some like
Talking to Grief and Emblems
One and Two only exist
in name. We work in the dark,
James tells us, we do what we
can. And questions, Denise writes,
they walk beside us, waiting.
This is life in the forest,
all ends without beginnings,
emblems lost. How do you talk
to grief, except in fragments?
from #39 - Spring 2013