From Without
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
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From Monday, December 13, 2010
Linda Pastan
What We Want
What we want
is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names—
now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don't remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us.
It is there all day
as an animal is there
under the table,
as the stars are there
even in full sun.
From 100 Essential Modern Poems By Women.
What we want
is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names—
now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don't remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us.
It is there all day
as an animal is there
under the table,
as the stars are there
even in full sun.
From 100 Essential Modern Poems By Women.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
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