In Between Spaces
In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood–
A lord of nature weeping to a tree.
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.
What’s madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day’s on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.
That place among the rocks–is it a cave, or winding path? The edge is what I have.
Excerpt from: “In a Dark Time” (p. 231) in Theodore Roethke (1975) The Collected Poems of Theordore Roethke. New York: Andhor/Doubleday.
Backyard and Alleys
Out… & In Between
Trains & Subways
Penn Station
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