The Jar, A Prison, & Me
Need is such a hard and heavy thing–
you can feel the weight of an abandoned
home choked by creeper vine. You can touch
drought grass, crisp in the sun–taste
a dish wanting salt.
What I mean to say is, there is a difference
between the baking heat of early August
and exactly how the sun feels today, peaking
benevolence over the rooflines.
It’s been a very very very very very hard time.
And while there is so much I still need—
deep and keen, need, that knife in the back–
for the first time in a long while I am grateful
Pandora closed that particular box
at exactly the right moment.
8 thoughts on "The Jar, A Prison, & Me"
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An enigmatic poem — it leaves me wondering about the contents of the box in question — but I like it very much. This idea of the degrees of need seems very original & intriguing.
Powerful sensual metaphors — weight/abandoned house, salt taste of grass, baking sun.
Yes, mysterious & lovely–that description of the grass, then how the sun feels now. Love the line set apart, making its own stanza, the crux of the matter. Don’t need to know the specifics to appreciate this poem.
I like the way you bring the poem home to the closing image.
a coming to grips poem: courage shines through
Yes, yes, yes:
Need is such a hard and heavy thing–
you can feel the weight of an abandoned
home choked by creeper vine. You can touch
drought grass, crisp in the sun–taste
a dish wanting salt.
Wow, you got me with the ending!
What I mean to say is, there is a difference
between the baking heat of early August
and exactly how the sun feels today, peaking
benevolence over the rooflines.
My favorite lines.