To Hear the Falling World

by Jane Hirshfield


Original Language English

Only if I move my arm a certain way,
it comes back.
Or the way the light bends in the trees
this time of year,
so a scrap of sorrow, like a bird, lights on the heart.
I carry this in my body, seed
in an unswept corner, husk-encowled and seeming safe.
But they guard me, these small pains,
from growing sure
of myself and perhaps forgetting.

-- from Of Gravity & Angels, by Jane Hirshfield

<<Previous Poem | More Poems by Jane Hirshfield | Next Poem >>


View All Poems by Jane Hirshfield



Recommended Books: Jane Hirshfield

Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women Given Sugar, Given Salt: Poems The Lives of the Heart: Poems The October Palace: Poems Of Gravity & Angels
More Books >>





To Hear the Falling