Sunday, May 06, 2007

Poetry of death - 4


Now I out walking
The world desert,
And my shoe and my stocking
Do me no hurt.

I leave behind
Good friends in town.
Let them get well-wined
And go lie down.

Don't think I leave
for the outer dark
Like Adam and Eve
Put out of the Park.

Forget the myth.
There is no one I
Am put out with
Or put out by.

Unless I'm wrong
I but obey
the urge of a song:
I'm--bound-- away!

And I may return
If dissatisfied
With what I learn
From having died.

-Robert Frost


This poem, "Away," is a new Robert Frost poem to me. I was taken with it immediately I read it, in the way it cushions death. Death is pictured as a beckoning journey from which one might even return.

I think it illustrates another way poetry helps us deal with feelings about life-changing events like death. Wrapping mysterious death in the familiar package of a journey — and neatly too (isn’t "After" neat – rhyming and all), helps us feel power over it.

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