David Ignatow (1914 - 1997)

61

I must train myself to no longer exist
but as a stone lifted and thrown
to wherever I land, a new place,
a new odor to it and new sound
and action surrounding me, all this
without the thought of loss, despair,
or hope, a preparation for loss.
Such a life would be god's, if one
existed. But it is life I can assume
is god's, and I can live it.



A Loose Gown

I wear my life loosely around me,
feeling it at elbows and knees.
Sometimes I'm forced to hurry
and it races along with me,
taking the wind in its hollows.
I get out of breath
and would fall down exhausted
but the wind in these pockets
of my life keep me from falling.



Somehow it does not write itself

Somehow it does not write itself, our life together,
my need expressed by your giving,
my seeking satisfied with your finding.
Truly we fit like bolt and lock,
to keep our house free of childishness and pretension;
love not in rhetoric,
emotion not in eyes.
When I feel your leg thrown over me in sleep
I say, That is the thought.