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- WOMEN have no wilderness in them,
- They are provident instead,
- Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts
- To eat dusty bread.
- They do not see cattle cropping red winter grass,
- They do not hear
- Snow water going down under culverts
- Shallow and clear.
- They wait, when they should turn to journeys,
- They stiffen, when they should bend.
- They use against themselves that benevolence
- To which no man is friend.
- They cannot think of so many crops to a field
- Or of clean wood cleft by an axe.
- Their love is an eager meaninglessness
- Too tense or too lax.
- They hear in any whisper that speaks to them
- A shout and a cry.
- As like as not, when they take life over their door-sill
- They should let it go by.
- Louise Bogan
Poets' Corner .
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