Adrienne Rich — Three Elegies

i. Late Style Propped on elbow in stony light Green lawns of entitlement out the window you can neither open nor close man crouched in den flung trembling back on failed gifts lapsed desire A falling star Dim, trapped in the narrow place of fame And beneath the skin a boredom indecipherable fear ii. As Ever As ever, death. Whenever, where. But it’s the drawn-together life we’re finally muted by. Must stand, regard as whole what was still partial still under revision. So it felt, so we thought. Then to hear sweep the scythe on grass still witherless and sweet iii. Fallen Figure The stone walls will recede and the needs that laid them scar of winter sun stretch low behind the advancing junipers darkness rise up from the whitening pond Crusted silver your breath in this ditch the pitchfork in your hand still stuck to your hand The northern lights will float, probe, vacillate the yellow eye of the snowplow you used to drive will seek and find you