Poem #18 for Poetry Month -- "The House"

[nightdog_barks]

From the American poet Richard Wilbur, here is a small meditation on loss and an endless search.



The House

Sometimes, on waking, she would close her eyes
For a last look at that white house she knew
In sleep alone, and held no title to,
And had not entered yet, for all her sighs.

What did she tell me of that house of hers?
White gatepost; terrace; fanlight of the door;
A widow's walk above the bouldered shore;
Salt winds that ruffle the surrounding firs.

Is she now there, wherever there may be?
Only a foolish man would hope to find
That haven fashioned by her dreaming mind.
Night after night, my love, I put to sea.


~ Richard Wilbur
From Anterooms: New Poems and Translation, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 2010
Online source here.

Comments

[takes_a_fairy]

I can relate to loss on the level of things I should've had from family, but never had: or people I'm close to having to permanently move away and never see them again. (Military lifestyle.)

I think this paints a very clear word picture. Sad, but lovely.

[nightdog_barks]

That was my thought -- sad but lovely.

:-)

[silverjackal]

Oh that is beautiful in its' poignancy. I too can relate to the dream, out of reach... :)

[nightdog_barks]

Isn't that nice? I just found this one today.