Far back when I went zig-zagging <br />through tamarack pastures <br />you were my genius, you <br />my cast-iron Viking, my helmed <br />lion-heart king in prison. <br />Years later now you're young <br /> <br />my fierce half-brother, staring <br />down from that simplified west <br />your breast open, your belt dragged down <br />by an oldfashioned thing, a sword <br />the last bravado you won't give over <br />though it weighs you sown as you stride <br /> <br />and the stars in it are dim <br />and maybe have stopped burning. <br />But you burn, and I know it; <br />as I throw back my head to take you in <br />an old transfusion happens again: <br />divine astronomy is nothing to it. <br /> <br />Indoors I bruise and blunder, <br />break faith, leave ill enough <br />alone, a dead child born in the dark. <br />Night cracks up over the chimney, <br />pieces of time, frozen geodes <br />come showering down in the grate. <br /> <br />A man reaches behind my eyes <br />and finds them empty <br />a woman's head turns away <br />from my head in the mirror <br />children are dying my death <br />and eating crumbs of my life. <br /> <br />Pity is not your forte. <br />Calmly you ache up there <br />pinned aloft in your crow's nest, <br />my speechless pirate! <br />You take it all for granted <br />and when I look you back <br /> <br />it's with a starlike eye <br />shooting its cold and egotistical spear <br />where it can so least damage. <br />Breathe deep! No hurt, no pardon <br />out here in the cold with you <br />you with your back to the wall.<br /><br />Adrienne Rich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/orion/
