Poetry June 2008

Vinegar and Oil

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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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