"Touch Me"
Summer is late, my heart.
Words plucked out of the air
some forty years ago
when I was wild with love
and torn almost in two
scatter like leaves this night
of whistling wind and rain.
It is my heart that's late,
it is my song that's flown.
Outdoors all afternoon
under a gunmetal sky
staking my garden down,
I kneeled to the crickets trilling
underfoot as if about
to burst from their crusty shells;
and like a child again
marveled to hear so clear
and brave a music pour
from such a small machine.
What makes the engine go?
Desire, desire, desire.
The longing for the dance
stirs in the buried life.
One season only,
and it's done.
So let the battered old willow
thrash against the windowpanes
and the house timbers creak.
Darling, do you remember
the man you married? Touch me,
remind me who I am.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Thank you, Peter. That's the poem I'll remember for Stanley Kunitz.
This is one of my favorite poems of all time.
I heard him read this once, and it moved me in a way I still cannot describe. I think it will always be one of the poems I think of when I think of him.
Just found this by chance. This is such a wonderful poem. I have not been much a reader of poetry to be honest but, I think that has just changed.
Post a Comment