Tuesday, March 12, 2013

The Promise

By: Jane Hirshfield

Stay, I said
to the cut flowers.
They bowed
their heads lower.


Stay, I said to the spider,
who fled.


Stay, leaf.
It reddened,
embarrassed for me and itself.


Stay, I said to my body.
It sat as a dog does,
obedient for a moment,
soon starting to tremble.


Stay, to the earth
of riverine valley meadows,
of fossiled escarpments,
of limestone and sandstone.
It looked back
with a changing expression, in silence.


Stay, I said to my loves.
Each answered,
Always.

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