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

Rural Reflections

Adrienne Rich

This is the grass your feet are planted on.
You paint it orange or you sing it green,
        But you have never found
A way to make the grass mean what you mean.

A cloud can be whatever you intend:
Ostrich or leaning tower or staring eye.
        But you have never found
A cloud sufficient to express the sky.

Get out there with your splendid expertise;
Raymond who cuts the meadow does not less.
        Inhuman nature says:
Inhuman patience is the true success.

Human impatience trips you as you run;
        Stand still and you must lie.
It is the grass that cuts the mower down;
It is the cloud that swallows up the sky.

Added: 25 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 24 Nov 2017 5:48 AM | Viewed: 6598 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3900/ | Viewed on 24 November 2017.
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