Monday, March 18, 2013

Just Once

I hope you are not disappointed that after all this time my first blog post is a poem I did not write. But when I happened upon it randomly just now my heart swelled and I wanted so much to share it and I wanted so much to be a poet half as brilliant as Anne Sexton and write a piece half as wonderful and brief and true.

Just Once
Anne Sexton

Just once I knew what life was for.
In Boston, quite suddenly, I understood;
walked there along the Charles River,
watched the lights copying themselves,
all neoned and strobe-hearted, opening
their mouths as wide as opera singers;
counted the stars, my little campaigners,
my scar daisies, and knew that I walked my love
on the night green side of it and cried
my heart to the eastbound cars and cried
my heart to the westbound cars and took
my truth across a small humped bridge
and hurried my truth, the charm of it, home
and hoarded these constants into morning
only to find them gone.