Tag Archives: jane hirshfield

“The Envoy” by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on May 8, 2013 by

One day in that room, a small rat. Two days later, a snake. Who, seeing me enter, whipped the long stripe of his body under the bed, then curled like a docile house-pet.x I don’t know how either came or … Continue reading →

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“Tree” by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on April 3, 2013 by

It is foolish to let a young redwood grow next to a house. xxx Even in this one lifetime, you will have to choose. xxx That great calm being, this clutter of soup pots and books – xxx Already the … Continue reading →

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“Meeting the Light Completely” by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on November 14, 2012 by

Even the long-beloved was once an unrecognized stranger. Just so, the chipped lip of a blue-glazed cup, blown field of a yellow curtain, might also, flooding and falling, ruin your heart. A table painted with roses. An empty clothesline. Each … Continue reading →

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“The Lives of the Heart” by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on June 25, 2012 by

Are ligneous, muscular, chemical. Wear birch-colored feathers, green tunnels of horse-tail reed. Wear calcified spirals, Fibonaccian spheres. Are edible; are glassy; are clay; blue schist. Can be burned as tallow, as coal, can be skinned for garnets, for shoes. Cast … Continue reading →

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“Happiness is harder” by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on January 15, 2012 by

To read a book of poetry from back to front, there is a cure for certain kinds of sadness. A person has only to choose. What doesn’t matter; just that— This coffee. That dress. “Here is the time I would … Continue reading →

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“Ladder” by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on October 27, 2011 by

A man tips back his chair, all evening. Years later, the ladder of small indentations still marks the floor. Walking across it, then stopping. Rarely are what is spoken and what is meant the same. Mostly the mouth says one … Continue reading →

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“All the Difficult Hours and Minutes” by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on August 26, 2011 by

This last week, Jane Hirshfield came out with her new volume of poetry – Come, Thief.  ”All the Difficult Hours and Minutes” is one of the poems from this new collection. All the difficult hours and minutes are like salted plums … Continue reading →

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Floor by Jane Hirshfield

Posted on May 22, 2011 by

The nails, once inset, rise to the surface— or, more truly perhaps, over years the boards sink down to meet what holds them. Worn, yes, but not worn through: the visible work reveals itself in iron, to be pounded down … Continue reading →

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