Anne
The daughter is mad, and so
I wonder what she will do.
But she holds her saucer softly
And sips, as people do,
From moment to moment making
Comments of rain and sun,
Till I feel my own heart shaking —
Till I am the frightened one.
O Anne, sweet Anne, brave Anne,
What did I think to see?
The rumors of the village
Have painted you savagely.
I thought you would come in anger —
A knife beneath your skirt.
I did not think to see a face
So peaceful, and so hurt.
I know the trouble is there,
Under your little frown;
But when you slowly lift your cup
And when you set it down,
I feel my heart go wild, Anne,
I feel my heart go wild.
I know a hundred children,
But never before a child
Hiding so deep a trouble
Or wanting so much to please,
Or tending so desperately all
The small civilities.
*
Hello Friends —
Today's poem comes from Mary Oliver (1935 - ). Much like fellow Pulitzer-winner
Robert Frost, Oliver is often pigeon-holed as a "nature poet," when
in fact some of her most intriguing works (like "Anne") take place
within four manmade walls. Some Random Poet Trivia: In her teens, Mary Oliver
briefly lived in the former home of poet Edna St. Vincent Millay.
April is National Poetry Month, and I am celebrating by emailing out my own
eclectic selection of one poem per day for the duration of the month. If you
wish to be unsubscribed from this Poem-a-Day email list at any time, please
reply to this email with a friendly unsubscribe request (preferably in heroic
couplet form). You may also request to add a consenting friend to the list, or
even nominate a poem.
To learn more about National Poetry Month, or to subscribe to a more
official-like Poem-a-Day list, visit www.poets.org.
Enjoy.
Ellen
P.S. Thanks to Molly for introducing me to this poem.
Labels: Millay, NPM, Robert Frost