To the bone

 

The Defeated

Beyond surprise, my ribs start up from the ground.

After I had sunk, the waters went down.

The horizon I was making for runs through my eyes.

It has woven its simple nest among my bones.

{W.S. Merwin, from The Moving Target, Atheneum 1963}

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I became enamored with W.S. Merwin when I found a poem of his on the London Underground a couple of years ago. I admired the brevity and haunting confidence of his verse. His work is direct, but it lingers with you. That is how The Defeated remained with me, and Separation before it.

Simple Nest
ink on vintage end-page with handstitching
4.25 x 5"

copyright Kate Castelli 2010