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
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