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More poems by Louise GlückLouise Glück | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Louise GlückBooks by Louise Glück

Midnight

Louise Glück

Speak to me, aching heart: what
Ridiculous errand are you inventing for yourself
Weeping in the dark garage
With your sack of garbage: it is not your job
To take out the garbage, it is your job
To empty the dishwasher. You are showing off
Again,
Exactly as you did in childhood--where
Is your sporting side, your famous
Ironic detachment? A little moonlight hits
The broken window, a little summer moonlight,
Tender
Murmurs from the earth with its ready
Sweetnesses--
Is this the way you communicate
With your husband, not answering
When he calls, or is this the way the heart
Behaves when it grieves: it wants to be
Alone with the garbage? If I were you,
I'd think ahead. After fifteen years,
His voice could be getting tired; some night
If you don't answer, someone else will answer.

Added: 9 Jan 2002 | Last Read: 18 Oct 2018 1:34 PM | Viewed: 6189 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/2351/ | Viewed on 18 October 2018.
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