To what extent do I mock Antigone
as I pass the beheaded hen on successive mornings,
her position altered by some night beast
perhaps, or just the wind
stronger at intervals
than the resistance of feather and flesh
I walk past on hardening ground
to give hay to living cows, higher
on the scale of likely return.
My son and I toast marshmallows
over the flames of old love letters
into the ashes
of picnics past in green fields
streamed through with sepia-toned
water, clear in the way of old photos.
In keeping with the recent Women’s March: one small step for each woman, one giant step for humankind. This poem has some age on it, but it is pertinent.
Monday is diapers, baking, cleaning
house, moments snatched from elastic time
where I stand at the lift-top desk during Sesame Street.
Bent with urgency over the board
unable to wait for inspiration
I write the hurried thought.
In the calm remove of summer
I gather the scraps out of the desk
and build what poems I can.
John Lennon said,
Don’t leave a lyric unfinished.
You won’t recall the original feeling.
Imagine being a woman, John, making do
with time at hand. Then come talk to me
and maybe I’ll listen.
To Paraphrase …
“The movement of the universe is toward symmetry
according to Archibald MacLeish,
and that according to his physicist friend––
very young, and very brilliant––
who offers mathematical reasons
MacLeish does not understand.”
From a conversation with Archibald MacLeish and Bill Moyers, March 7, 1976
What he did understand was love.
While there is nothing in symmetry to which one would turn
with a broken heart
(“You don’t weep on the bosom of symmetry,” he said.)
the real vocabulary, it seems to me, in which one
can catch the nature … of the spirit, the entity
that has to do with our lives and their meaning,
that perhaps knows the meaning of our lives,
is very much closer to ourselves through the channel,
the medium of love.
And to me the fundamental truth of Jesus
is that he does move love into the center
of human experience. Love is the answer
to the mystery of the Universe––a bit more childish
than I want to be and yet, there is something there.
There is something there.