I read the poem below on Cathy’s Heart Happy blog. I met Cathy at Squaw this summer through Jane, my Squaw roommate. Cathy and Jane have written a book together about surviving breast cancer, based on entries in Cathy’s blog and Jane’s poems.

The poem Cathy chose for today is by Bob Hass, who was on the faculty of Squaw, and, of course, former poet laureate. It is only about work in the broadest sense, but it just slays me.

Misery and Splendor
Robert Hass

Summoned by conscious recollection, she
would be smiling, they might be in a kitchen talking,
before or after dinner. But they are in this other room,
the window has many small panes, and they are on a couch
embracing. He holds her as tightly
as he can, she buries herself in his body.
Morning, maybe it is evening, light
is flowing through the room. Outside,
the day is slowly succeeded by night,
succeeded by day. The process wobbles wildly
and accelerates: weeks, months, years. The light in the room
does not change, so it is plain what is happening.
They are trying to become one creature,
and something will not have it. They are tender
with each other, afraid
their brief, sharp cries will reconcile them to the moment
when they fall away again. So they rub against each other,
their mouths dry, then wet, then dry.
They feel themselves at the center of a powerful
and baffled will. They feel
they are an almost animal,
washed up on the shore of a world—
or huddled against the gate of a garden—
to which they can’t admit they can never be admitted.
Via Heart Happy