Evening Poetry, May 30

Eurydice Speaks

by Eavan Boland

How will I know you in the underworld?

How will we find each other?

We lived for so long on the physical earth–

Our skies littered with actual stars

Practical tides in our bay–

What will we do with the loneliness of the mythical?

Walking beside the ditches brimming with dactyls,

By a ferryman whose feet are scanned for him

On the shore of a river written and rewritten

As elegy, epic, epode.

Remember the thin air of our earthly winters?

Frost was an iron, underhand descent.

Dust was always in session

And no one needed to write down

Or restate, or make record of, or ever would,

And never will,

The plainspoken message of recognition,

Nor the way I often stood at the window–

The hills growing dark, saying,

As a shadow became a stride

And a raincoat was woven out of streetlight

I would know you anywhere.

You can find this poem in A Woman Without A Country.