Your silence today is a pond where drowned things liveI want to see raised dripping and brought into the sun.
It’s not my own face I see there, but other faces,even your face at another age.
Whatever’s lost there is needed by both of us—a watch of old gold, a water-blurred fever chart,a key… Even the silt and pebbles of the bottomdeserve their glint of recognition.
I fear this silence,this inarticulate life.
I’m waitingfor a wind that will gently open this sheeted waterfor once, and show me what I can dofor you, who have often made the unnameablenameable for others, even for me. This is poem IX, from Adrienne Rich's Twenty-One Love Poems collection, written between 1974-1976. These were originally published as a complete collection but were later re-published and included as part of another collection of works, written between 1974-1977, called The Dream Of A Common Language.
Twenty-One Love Poems and The Floating Poem, (un-numbered) can all be found here at oldpoetry.