Editor’s Note: I have always loved this poem, and I was privileged to hear Kunitz read it at the Dodge Poetry Festival many years ago. His voice is lost to us now, but not this poignant, lovely tribute to a love sustained over the years.
Summer is late, my heart.
Words plucked out of the air
some forty years ago
when I was wild with love
and torn almost in two
scatter like leaves this night
of whistling wind and rain.
It is my heart that’s late,
it is my song that’s flown.
Outdoors all afternoon
under a gunmetal sky
staking my garden down,
I kneeled to the crickets trilling
underfoot as if about
to burst from their crusty shells;
and like a child again
marveled to hear so clear
and brave a music pour
from such a small machine.
What makes the engine go?
Desire, desire, desire.
The longing for the dance
stirs in the buried life.
One season only,
and it’s done.
So let the battered old willow
thrash against the windowpanes
and the house timbers creak.
Darling, do you remember
the man you married? Touch me,
remind me who I am.
Stanley Kunitz (1905-2006) was a highly acclaimed American poet who served as the U.S. Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry twice, in 1974-1976 and again in 2000-2001. He won a Pulitzer Prize for his poetry collection, Selected Poems, 1928-1958. Kunitz also served as the New York State Poet from 1987-1989 and was a dedicated educator, teaching at multiple universities.
0 Responses
Beautiful. I’m hardly an expert, but I’ve always liked Kunitz. Didn’t know this one. A keeper. Thank you!
Have you read The Wild Braid? It involves interviews with the poet about gardening, poetry, and life as well as photos of Kunitz in his beloved garden in Provincetown. Highly recommend.
Years ago, the editors of The American Poetry Review asked a group of major American poets to name their favorite poems. This one appeared on more lists than any other. I’m not surprised.