Sunday, August 21, 2005

all codes lead to roam

POND
by Monika Rinck

says he: grief is a pond.
says i: yes, grief is a pond.
because grief lies in a hollow,
recking and shot through with fish.
says he: and guilt is a pond.
says i: yes, guilt’s a pond, too.
because guilt sloshes about in a hole
already reaching the flattened pit
of my stiffly upstretched arm.
says he: deceit is a pond.
says i: yes, deceit is also a pond.
because on summer nights you can
picnic on the banks of deceit
and something always gets left behind.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

what a beautiful poem--by a poet completely new to me. thank you. kate

3:06 PM  
Blogger Heidi Lynn Staples (formerly Heidi Peppermint) said...

so glad you like it Kate. i should mention that Nicholas

8:25 AM  
Blogger Heidi Lynn Staples (formerly Heidi Peppermint) said...

Grindell (oops) translated it. yrs, h

8:29 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

and hope is to fill with promise
and ease the pain
and encompass the totality

7:11 PM  
Blogger Heidi Lynn Staples (formerly Heidi Peppermint) said...

thanks for the turn toward hope anonymous. tho' i did read on one blog, "hope sucks"--hope reenters the mind kind of like when your leg falls asleep and you feel the blood stabbing back into the limb.

11:03 AM  

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