Sunday, May 3, 2009

What we Want- or thought we wanted

Last week I posted a poem by Linda Pastan, a writer I do not know anything about, but whose poem about leaving home touched a tender spot in me. This weekend, another of her poems fell across my lap and I feel again that she has written somethng just for me.
What we Want
Linda Pastan
What we want
Is never simple.
We move among the things
we thought we wanted:
a face, a room, an open book
and these things bear our names-
now they want us.
But what we want appears
in dreams, wearing disguises.
We fall past,
holding out our arms
and in the morning
our arms ache.
We don't remember the dream,
but the dream remembers us.
It is there all day
as an animal is there,
under the table,
as the stars are there
even in full sun.

1 comment:

donna said...

I'm not good at all about interpreting poetry but this one reminds me of the saying, be careful of what you wish for.