Poetry June 2008

Vinegar and Oil

Wrong solitude vinegars the soul,
right solitude oils it.

How fragile we are, between the few good moments.

Coming and going unfinished,
puzzled by fate,

like the half-carved relief
of a fallen donkey, above a church door in Finland.

Jane Hirschfield's 2006 collection, After, was a finalist for England's T.S. Eliot Prize. She received an Academy Fellowship from the Academy of American Poets in 2004.
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