A poem by Sharon Olds
"I Go Back to May 1937,"
I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges,
I see my father strolling out
under the ochre sandstone arch, the
red tiles glinting like bent
plates of blood behind his head, I
see my mother with a few light books at her hip
standing at the pillar made of tiny bricks with the
wrought-iron gate still open behind her, its
sword-tips black in the May air,
they are about to graduate, they are about to get married,
they are kids, they are dumb, all they know is they are
innocent, they would never hurt anybody.
I want to go up to them and say Stop,
don't do it--she's the wrong woman,
he's the wrong man, you are going to do things
you cannot imagine you would ever do,
you are going to do bad things to children,
you are going to suffer in ways you never heard of,
you are going to want to die. I want to go
up to them there in the late May sunlight and say it,
her hungry pretty blank face turning to me,
her pitiful beautiful untouched body,
but I don't do it. I want to live. I
take them up like the male and female
paper dolls and bang them together
at the hips like chips of flint as if to
strike sparks from them, I say
Do what you are going to do, and I will tell about it.
I recently came across this poem while reading Bird by Bird. Monday's tend to be nostalgic, sometimes gray, thinking days for me and today this poem is on my mind.
Monday, March 10, 2008
On my mind...
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4 comments:
Wow! I thought my mind was a crazy place. I don't think I mean to call you crazy. You seem to be so good at expressing or finding something like this to say what you are feeling. Maybe I should read and/or write more. Thank you for sharing this poem.
I enjoyed the poem. It's true we want to stop them and say don't do this instead, do this, but then it wouldn't really be their lives and choices. I am still working on how to let that happen more.
Way to make me think Am.
Great poem.
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