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Showing posts from February 28, 2016

Poem By Rita Dove " I have been a stranger in a strange land

I have been a stranger in a strange land” “I have been a stranger in a strange land” By Rita Doveb. 1952Rita Dove Life's spell is so exquisite, everything conspires to break it.
Emily Dickinson
It wasn't bliss. What was bliss    but the ordinary life? She'd spend hours    in patter, moving through whole days    touching, sniffing, tasting . . . exquisite    housekeeping in a charmed world.    And yet there was always   
more of the same, all that happiness,    the aimless Being There.    So she wandered for a while, bush to arbor,    lingered to look through a pond's restive mirror.    He was off cataloging the universe, probably,    pretending he could organize    what was clearly someone else's chaos.   
That's when she found the tree,    the dark, crabbed branches    bearing up such speechless bounty,    she knew without being told    this was forbidden. It wasn't    a question of ownership—    who could lay claim to    such maddening perfection?