On ashes of old volcanoes
I lie baking
the deathward flesh in the sun.
I can hear
a door, far away,
banging in the wind:
Mole Street. Quai-aux-Fleurs. Françoise.
Greta. “After Lunch” by Po Chu-I.
“The Sunflower” by Blake.
And yet I can rejoice
that everything changes, that
we go from life
and enter ourselves
like the tadpole, its time come, tumbling toward the slime.
From Collected Poems by Galway Kinnell. Copyright © 2017 by The Literary Estate of Galway Kinnell. Used by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. All rights reserved.
Galway Kinnell was born in Providence, Rhode Island, on February 1, 1927.
Date Published: 2018-01-16
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/lost-loves