Last week I posted a poem by Louise Glück, who won the Nobel Prize, but I wrote this homage long before that happened–earlier this year, really, thinking
about the virus:
October
after Louise Glück
Aren’t the days skimping
on light again,
mornings dark
and darker
doesn’t the time change soon,
shifting the scant light
doesn’t the chill in the air
intensify now
doesn’t it remind you
how everything slows
withers
doesn’t the garden
yield its last sweet tomato
its last cucumber
the basil turns brown
overnight, few eggs
in the nests
doesn’t it seem like this end
might be the end
Meryl Natchez