Poetry Who?

I call myself a poetry lover, but despite that, I was unaware that today was National Poetry Day until a friend clued me in.  How pathetic of me!  Thank goodness she saved the day.  I do have to poke fun of her a bit, because according to my 1.3 minutes of google research, it is only National Poetry Day in the UK.  Regardless, any excuse to celebrate poetry works for me.

It's hard to come across any of his poems that I don't like, but this Merwin poem stands out. 


When You Go Away
W.S. Merwin

When you go away the wind clicks around to the north
The painters work all day but at sundown the paint falls
Showing the black walls
The clock goes back to striking the same hour
That has no place in the years

And at night wrapped in the bed of ashes
In one breath I wake
It is the time when the beards of the dead get their growth
I remember that I am falling
That I am the reason
And that my words are the garment of what I shall never be
Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy


The images of painters working only to have the paint slip from the walls and the clock striking the same timeless hour seem to be the perfect way to demonstrate a feeling of loss that is never ending.  Loss that has no place in time and that time doesn't heal.  And the final image is haunting and perfect.  He does it again.