My mother looks up. She and I often think two halves of one thought. They keep rolling out of his huge stiff fingers. He used to be a big man, over six feet tall and strong,.
But now he turns to me with a rush of urgent syllables. I have a photograph taped to my fridge at home. It shows his World War II air crew posing in front of the plane. Hands firmly behind backs, legs wide apart,. They squint into the brilliant winter sun of My father on the far left is the tallest airman,. The shadowless light makes him look immortal,. His black grin flares once and goes out like a match.
I wake too fast from a cellar of hanged puppies. It is generally anger dreams that occupy my nights now. My dream was of an old woman lying awake in bed. She controls the house by a system of light bulbs strung above her on wires. One by one the switches refuse to turn the bulbs on.
Then she creeps out of bed to peer through lattices. Anger travels through me, pushes aside everything else in my heart,. I want to curse the false friend who said I love you forever.
I reach up and switch on the bedside lamp. Night springs. I lie listening to the light vibrate in my ears. Falsity and bad love and the deadly pain of alteration are constant topics in. Well, thou halt paid me back my love! But if there be a God above. Whose arm is strong, whose word is true,.
This hell shall wring thy spirit too! There go, Deceiver, go! My hand is streaming wet;. Oh could that lost heart give back, back again to thine,. One tenth part of the pain that clouds my dark decline! Vain words, vain frenzied thoughts! No ear can hear me call—. Lost in the vacant air my frantic curses fall. Unconquered in my soul the Tyrant rules me still—. Life bows to my control, but Love I cannot kill! How did Emily come to lose faith in humans?
She admired their dialects, studied their genealogies,. Her introvert nature shrank from shaking hands with someone she met on the moor. But the poetry shows traces of a deeper explanation. As if anger could be a kind of vocation for some women.
The heart is dead since infancy. Unwept for let the body go. Suddenly cold I reach down and pull the blanket back up to my chin. It is stunning, it is a moment like no other,. I could say, Yes I know that I have two hands. Then one day I awakened on a planet of people whose hands occasionally.
From the next room I hear my mother shift and sigh and settle. Out the window the moon is just a cold bit of silver gristle low on fading banks. Our guests are darkly lodged, I whispered, gazing through. The question I am left with is the question of her loneliness.
Astonished light is washing over the moor from north to east. One way to put off loneliness is to interpose God. Emily had a relationship on this level with someone she calls Thou. She describes Thou as awake like herself all night. Thou woos Emily with a voice that comes out of the night wind. Thou and Emily influence one another in the darkness,. I am uneasy with the compensatory model of female religious experience and yet,.
My education, I have to admit, has been gappy. I remember one Sunday I was sitting in the backseat of the car. We were waiting in the driveway for mother,. Showing a good bit of leg today Mother, he said. I stared at the back of her head waiting for what she would say. But she just laughed a strange laugh with ropes all over it. Later that summer I put this laugh together with another laugh. She was talking on the telephone in the kitchen.
Well a woman would be just as happy with a kiss on the cheek. Laid alone in the darkened room;. And the smile of joy is banished,. Has entire, unbiased sway,. Grief deepening, joy congealing,. Shall bear thy soul away. The awful time for thee:.
Dost thou not feel upon thy soul. A flood of strange sensations roll,. Forerunners of a sterner power,. It is chilling to watch Thou move upon thou,.
It is a shock to realize that this low, slow collusion. She has reversed the roles of thou and Thou. Why be unstrung and pounded flat and pine away.
I say more than they that watch for the morning. I like to believe that for her the act of watching provided a shelter,. But for myself I do not believe this, I am not quenched—. I have watched this destiny disclose itself. That is too simple. I see a great silver needle go flashing right through the deck once from end to. And around the walls of the room a voice goes whispering,.
Nude 8. Black disc on which the fires of all the winds.