Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Stolen Poem

The Thing Is

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

-Ellen Bass


Christine said...

I really like this. If you can "like" something while hating it at the same time. How did you find it?

jen said...

I actually came across it on someone else's blog. It fit, so I used it. I'm looking for a good site that publishes solid poetry. have been for awhile now. Any ideas?