i just realized i have two linda pastan poems on my wall. i'm a fan.
one is called Waiting for My Life. very appropriate, i think.
"I waited for my life to start
for years, standing at bus stops
looking into the curved distance
thinking each bus was the wrong bus;
or lost in books where I would travel
without luggage from one page
to another; where the only breeze
was the rustle of pages turning,
and lives rose and set
in the violent colors of suns.
Sometimes my life coughed and coughed:
a stalled care about to catch,
and I would hold someone in my arms,
though it was always someone else I wanted.
Or I would board any bus, jostled
by thighs and elbows that knew
where they were going; collecting scraps
of talk, setting them down like birdsong
in my notebook, where someday I would go
prospecting for my life."
-Linda Pastan
very appropriate, indeed. imagine the person in the poem is me. basically sums up how i feel about life right now.
1 comment:
When I read Linda Pastan I literally thought you were talking about a type of pasta. And I was like, "Huh. Poems about pasta. I'm all about that."
But this was good too.
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