Section 2 ~ Issue 22cJane Hirshfield
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JANE HIRSHFIELD                                            

I Wanted Only A Little

US  

I 221  wanted, I thought, only a little,

two teaspoons of silence—

one for sugar,

one for stirring the wetness.

 

No.

I wanted a Cairo of silence,

a Kyoto.

In every hanging garden

mosses and waters.

 

The directions of silence:

north, west, south, past, future.

 

It comes through any window

one inch open,

like rain driven sideways.

 

Grief shifts,

as a grazing horse does,

one leg to the other.

 

But a horse sleeping 

sleeps with all legs locked. 

 
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