A Long Time the Place Was Empty
Where Words Go
by Becky Dennison Sakellariou
ATHENS Greece—(Weekly Hubris)—3/19/12—
Estranged . . .
“A Long Time the Place Was Empty”
from “Little Horse” by W.S. Merwin (The Carrier of Ladders)
Tonight here with you,
the place where my hand might rest
between your ribs
collapses slightly as you curl
up to sleep.
The skin folds softly,
no muscles tight or round
in the hollow made for my fist.
We no longer speak of the future.
The clothes of forty-two seasons
overflow the closets, lean
on each other for comfort,
a little frightened of time
and age and the possibility
of our arms never again slipping
into a sleeve or a silk lining
stroking our hot skin.
And still, each peach leaf
bends in on itself
cradling the last drop of moisture,
then, as light slides away,
enters the night, uncurling.
More Regarding Poet W. S Merwin: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W._S._Merwin; and his phrase, “a long time the place was empty”: http://books.google.com/books?id=CQpH6SoTHLYC&pg=PA61&lpg=PA61&dq=WS+Merwin+A+Long+Time+The+Place+Was+Empty&source=bl&ots=GOoGYNjNQz&sig=ImtOmmMqfl9EtiqfnIlhPzLQ6tU&hl=en&sa=X&ei=SgxlT7byH4KP0QHCo-yzCA&ved=0CCAQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false