What kind of beast would turn its life into words?
What atonement is this all about?--and yet, writing words like these,
I’m also living.
Is all this close to the wolverines’ howled signals,that modulated cantata of the wild?or, when away from you I try to create you in words,am I simply using you, like a river or a war?
And how have I used rivers, how have I used warsto escape writing of the worst thing of all—not the crimes of others, not even our own death,but the failure to want our freedom passionately enoughso that blighted elms, sick rivers, massacres would seemmere emblems of that desecration of ourselves? This is poem
II, 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.
