that you are unloved
but that you love
and must decide which
to remember; tracks left
in the field, a language
of going away or coming back–
and to look up
from the single mind,
to let untangle
the far-off snow
from sky
until no longer
held as proof
is also where birds
find agreement
strung along branches
each with their own song
for the other,
every note used
to sing anyway–
how to hold the already
as the not yet
*
About This Poem
“This was written for a friend who kept asking me if anyone would ever love her. Always that question, and what is there to say except to endure enough to see what happens. Maybe even to be brave enough to start first, to love without expectation, even hope.”
–Sophie Cabot Black
*
Sophie Cabot Black is the author of three books of poetry. Her most recent is The Exchange (Graywolf Press, 2013). She divides her time between New York City and rural Connecticut.
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