AT THE GATE IN THE MIDDLE OF MY LIFE
I had come prepared to answer questions,
because it said there would be questions.
I could have danced or sung. Could have loved.
But it wanted intelligence. Now it asks
what can be understood but not explained
and I have nothing with me. I take off
my shoes and say this is a plate of food.
I say the wind is going the wrong way.
Say here is my face emerging into clear light
that misses the sea we departed to join you.
Take off my jacket and say this is a goat alone.
It embraces me, weeping human tears. Dances
sadly three times around. Then three times more.
(Linda Gregg)
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What is this beautiful poem! I am so moved and also unsure I understood even the half. Poetry really does speak