from The Lives of the Heart, 1997, Harper Perennial
Tenderness does not choose its own uses.
It goes out to everything equally,
circling rabbit and hawk.
Look: in the iron bucket,
a single nail, a single ruby --
all the heavens and hells.
They rattle in the heart and make one sound.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
A Jane Hirshfield poem
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
a treat to find this on the doorstep!ReplyDelete