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 years of unearthing the rocks out of the field and soon enough
you've built a stone wall the longer the marriage
 the less the need for trying to agree but we've agreed what will
happen at the end of it nothing
except the old immutable forms like a shovel shared at the grave for
Ecclesiastes so the bereaved can choose whether to believe
that death is a kind of hibernation this spring the groundhog foraging
in our yard was smaller thinner a strange
perpendicular crimp in its tail which proved to the rational mind it was
a different creature but look beloved
how in late summer it's fattened out how its coat now gleams how
when frightened it also hurries into the barn 
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Title Annotation:ten poems
Author:Voigt, Ellen Bryant
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Article Type:Poem
Date:Jul 1, 2011
Previous Article:Oak.
Next Article:Lament.

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