He could say which trains
will come or have gone—whether
trains form from night or
become it. Platforms
mutter underfoot, he speaks
to undress my bones—
Have it, it’s yours, the
waiting—hope and remorse both.
He can’t stop, his steps
lead away. His face—
not the moon—must slide from sky
to allow day. Be
glad I leave. It’s better not
to know what you ride.
Filed under: Chicago, Fate, Greek Mythology, Haiku, Haiku Sonnets, Hope, Life, Literature, Mortality, Odysseus, Poetry, Sonnets, Thoughts, Tiresias, Uncategorized, Urban Life, Writing
This is a very evocative and enspirited poem. Thank you for posting it.
Tiresias looks forward and backward he sees the trains coming and going and can enumerate. ” have it, it’s yours the waiting hope and remorse both.” Where does this in italics originate? This is just so beautiful! G
I meant the italics to be Tiresias speaking. I used italics because I didn’t want to draw a clear line between the speaker in the poem and Tiresias. One of my students was talking about “Tiresias’ burden” in class, and I thought of the prophet in a modern, mundane context, walking among us…or in us. Thanks for commenting. —D