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 Contents | September 2003 More on poetry from The Atlantic Monthly. |
To Smoke
Even now when we by W. S. Merwin ..... can no longer remember how much of the scent of the world we gave up life after life in the hope of being able to hold something in our hands we recognize you at once every time without fail day or night wherever you may be coming from across the hill or under the door and we imagine you even when you are not there we can never be sure you reach all the way to us out of somewhere we have forgotten we wake into dreams of you as the bees do hoping it is not true the world is burning you have always been warning us too late and only as you were leaving ghost of what we have known something reminds us of you in the fragrance of morning in the opening flowers in a breath at the moment it seems to be ours
W. S. Merwin's most recent publications include a verse translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight (2002) and a poetry collection, The Pupil (2001). Copyright © 2003 by The Atlantic Monthly Group. All rights reserved. The Atlantic Monthly; September 2003; To Smoke; Volume 292, No. 2; 132. | [an error occurred while processing this directive] | ||
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