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More poems by Adrienne RichAdrienne Rich | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (5) | Books by Adrienne RichBooks by Adrienne Rich

For The Dead

Adrienne Rich

I dreamed I called you on the telephone
to say: Be kinder to yourself
but you were sick and would not answer

The waste of my love goes on this way
trying to save you from yourself

I have always wondered about the left-over
energy, the way water goes rushing down a hill
long after the rains have stopped

or the fire you want to go to bed from
but cannot leave, burning-down but not burnt-down
the red coals more extreme, more curious
in their flashing and dying
than you wish they were
sitting long after midnight

Added: 25 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 15 Oct 2018 11:10 PM | Viewed: 12367 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3887/ | Viewed on 15 October 2018.
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