Passages; Lowell on Sunday and Roethke

Waking Early Sunday Morning  by Robert Lowell






For Theodore Roethke by Robert Lowell



                     –  Theodore Roethke

I stumble into the pool, my fall
checked by the cleanest water
until I put my head down my feet up.

Enveloped by a field of light striking water,
my heart firmly clenches, closes like a rose
turns away from the setting sun.

Swallowing hard, become heavier than air.
Sink out of sight undone, my tongue
turns to stone.

-Victor Enns, written in the 1990s I think.

Funny, not nearly as good as I remember. But dig the stamp!


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