Sometimes poems should be found at night, when all the lists have been completed and the day’s business has been hot showered off of you. A chair, a single lamp, a single line that catches your eye and imagination.

Here’s one from late yesterday evening…

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It’s the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
aid it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
nyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
he marriage failed? Like the people who
ame back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.

– Failing and Falling
by Jack Gilbert

Gilbert passed away this last November 13th – a brief bio and additional poetry can be found here

by *Raipun
(Christiane Vleugels)

[h/t to Andrew Sullivan for the lead-in to the poet…books have been ordered…]