Saturdays’ posts are for poetry – a step outside my normal writing. One poem from me; One poem from another.
Note to Self
by Tammy Vitale
(when the need to forget pours
like fire from heaven or
the pressure to pursue yourself
nailes you to the walls)
something must die
so something may live
(small deaths. more flower petals
than torn skin, windblown
underfootsteps along the sidewalk)
This is where the heart lives be
still. Listen. See how
the story rises
Ghazals: Homage to Ghalib
by Adrienne Rich
Did you think I was talking about my life?
I was trying to drive a tradition up against the wall.
The field they burned over is greener than all the rest.
You have to watch it, he said, the sparks can travel the roots.
Shot back into this earth’s atmosphere
our children’s children may photograph these stones.
In the red wash of the darkroom, I see myself clearly;
when the print is developed and handed about, the face is
nothing to me.
For us the work undoes itself over and over:
the grass grows back, the dust collects, the scar breaks open