those who dance
September 15, 2016
Stopping by woods on a snowy evening
September 15, 2016

The Woman in the Moon

Darlings, I write to you from the moon
where I hide behind famous light.
How could you think it ever a man up here?
A cow jumped over.  The dish ran away with

the spoon.  What reached me were your joys, griefs,
here’s-the-craic, losses, longings, your lives
brief, mine long, a talented loneliness.  I must have
a thousand names for the earth, my blue vocation.

Round I go, the moon a diet of light, sliver of pear,
wedge of lemon, slice of melon, half an orange,
silver onion;  your human sound falling through space,
childbirth’s song, the lover’s song, the song of death.

Devoted as words to things, I gaze, gawp, glare; deserts
where forests were, sick seas.  When night comes,
I see you gaping back as though you hear my Darlings,
what have you done, what have you done to the world?

 

Carol Ann Duffy

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