Page:The Pot of Earth.pdf/53

 Stripped of my memories, without the chairs And walls and doors and windows that have been My recognition of myself, my soul’s Condition, the whole habit of my mind, Yes, wake, and of the close, unusual dark Demand an answer, crying, What am I? Ah, What! A naked body born to bear Nakedness suffering. A sealed mystery With hands to feed it, with unable legs, With shamed eyes meaning—what? What do they mean The red haws out there underneath the snow, What do they signify?

Glory of women to grow big and die Fruitfully, glory of women to be broken, Pierced by the green sprout, severed, tossed aside