SHORT POEMS AND SPIN-OFFS: EMILY AND THE EXPERIENCE OF SURPRISE
by Denise Levertov
Page 12
I've been struck all my life actually by the extraordinary simultaneity of opposites, and of the things that are happening at any time if one just stops to think about them, somewhere where one is not. I wrote a poem about this many years ago called "To The Reader," which I can't quote because I have a terrible memory. I would know, if someone quoted it to me, if they got it wrong, but I can't do it right myself without having the book in front of me. But it's about that same thing, like the one I just read. From Life in the Forest, this poem struck me as not entirely unsuitable.
TALKING TO GRIEF
Ah, grief, I should not treat you
like a homeless dog
who comes to the back door
for a crust, for a meatless bone.
I should trust you.
I should coax you
into the house and give you
your own corner,
a worn mat to lie on,
your own water dish.
You think I don't know you've been living
under my porch.
You long for your real place to be readied
before winter comes. You need
your name,
your collar and tag. you need
the right to warn off intruders,
to consider my house your own
and me your person
and yourself
my own dog.
