Poet Jane Hirshfield said "... the feeling I have about poem-writing (is) that it is always an exploration, of discovering something I didn't already know.  Who I am shifts from moment to moment, year to year.  What I can perceive does as well.  A new poem peers into mystery, into whatever lies just beyond the edge of knowable ground."

I bring a different poem to the writing classes each week, not only to inspire but to introduce new poets to the group members.

A Winter Night by Tomas Tranströmer

The storm puts its mouth to the house
   and blows to produce a note.
I sleep uneasily, turn, with shut eyes
   read the storm's text.

But the child's eyes are large in the dark
   and for the child the storm howls.
Both are fond of lamps that swing;
   both are halfway towards speech.

The storm has childish hands and wings.
   The Caravan bolts towards Lapland.
And the house feels its own constellation of nails
   holding the walls together.

The night is calm over our floor,
   (where all expired footsteps 
rest like sunken leaves in a pond)
   but outside the night is wild.

Over the world goes a graver storm.
   It sets its mouth to our soul
And blows to produce a note. We dread
   that the storm will blow us empty.

~ from Selected Poems (The Ecco Press, 1987)


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