Poetry 365



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Inspired by Billy Collins' Poetry 180 project, I post one poem per day here, for at least a year. | tags by author or subject | contact me here



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klammer
The Thing Is, Ellen Bass

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

07:07 pm, by sleepanddream48 notes Comments




Notes
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    This will always be one of my favorites.
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    Ellen Bass to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like...
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    Ellen Bass
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    to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper...
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    to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper...
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    to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper...
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    poetry365: to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like...
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    to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you’ve held dear crumbles like burnt paper...
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