You have rented an apartment. You come to this enclosure with physical relief, your heavy body climbing the stairs in the dark, the hall bulb burned out, the landlord of Greek extraction and possibly a fatalist. In the apartment leaning against one wall, your daughter's painting of a large frilled cabbage against a dark sky with pinpoints of stars. The eager vegetable, opening itself as if to eat the air, or speak in cabbage language of the meanings within meanings; while the points of stars hide their massive violence in the dark upper half of the painting. You can live with this.
From In the Next Galaxy by Ruth Stone. Copyright 2004 Ruth Stone. Used by permission of Copper Canyon Press. All rights reserved.
Ruth Stone, whose poetry collection In the Next Galaxy (Copper Canyon Press, 2002) received the National Book Award, was the recipient of the 2002 Wallace Stevens Award given by the Academy of American Poets.
Date Published: 2004-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/cabbage