Monday, March 5, 2012

I seek water from the vines

Winter fragments stream around my face.
Bits of earth careen through the air. My breath is dry.
I seek water from the vines, taste for a drop.
Secret, secret water. Secret drop. I cannot find it.
But then--a grape. It bursts in my mouth. Juice.
It does not feed me. But I have no more thirst.
I settle down and wait for daybreak.
My beloved will come from the West.

-at Hadar, as part of a class on Shir HaShirim taught by Alicia Ostriker. Guiding word per line: winter, earth, vines, secret, grape, feed, daybreak, my beloved

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