It Is March by W.S. Merwin
Friday, April 24th, 2009 by Ryan
W.S. Merwin is an American poet who was recently awarded his second Pulitzer Prize for poetry for The Shadow Of Sirius. Merwin has published over 20 books of poetry and won his first Pulitzer Prize in 1971 for The Carrier Of Ladders.
It is March
It is March and black dust falls out of the books
Soon I will be gone
The tall spirit who lodged here has
Left already
On the avenues the colorless thread lies under
Old prices
When you look back there is always the past
Even when it has vanished
But when you look forward
With your dirty knuckles and the wingless
Bird on your shoulder
What can you write
The bitterness is still rising in the old mines
The fist is coming out of the egg
The thermometers out of the mouths of the corpses
At a certain height
The tails of the kites for a moment are
Covered with footsteps
Whatever I have to do has not yet begun
- W.S. Merwin
