"The fish are in the fishman's window," the grain Is in the hall, "the hunter shouts as the pheasant falls." That shout rises from deep in Adam's chest.
The great trawlers pull in the shining bodies. Horses' teeth rip night from sleepy day. We are all like Nebuchadnezzar on his knees.
Because the greedy soul gained its teeth in the womb, More than one twin died in the safest place; We fell into the doctor's hands with haunted eyes.
We inherited much when we inherited teeth. We will never have one whole day of peace. An old horse will die or a house will burn.
Each evening we reach for our neighbor's food. Each night we crawl into imaginary beds; Each midnight we visit the darkness with Saturn.
We can go on sitting in the Meeting House, But the greedy one in us will still survive. One cry from the crow contains a thousand more.
Robert BlyRobert Bly's most recent book of poems is The Night Abraham Called to the Stars (HarperCollins).