Poetry Wednesday. The man splitting wood in the daybreak
looks strong, as though, if one weakened,
one could turn to him and he would help.

[...]We could turn to our fathers,
but they protect us only through the unperplexed
looking-back of the numerals cut into their headstones.
Or to our mothers, whose love, so devastated,
can't, even in spring, break through the hard earth.
Our spouses weaken at the same rate we do.
We have to hold our children up to lean on them.
Everyone who chould help goes or hasn't arrived.
What about the man splitting wood in the daybreak,
who looked strong? That was years ago. That was me.

excerpt from "The Man Splitting Wood in the Daybreak", Galway Kinnell.

Posted by Moira Breen at August 06, 2003 02:31 PM