Burning Oneself Out

A poem by Adrienne Cecile Rich (1929 – 2012)

We can look into the stove tonight

as into a mirror, yes,

the serrated log, the yellow-blue gaseous core

the crimson-flittered grey ash, yes.

I know inside my eyelids

and underneath my skin

Time takes hold of us like a draft

upward, drawing at the heats

in the belly, in the brain

You told me of setting your hand

into the print of a long-dead Indian

and for a moment, I knew that hand,

that print, that rock,

the sun producing powerful dreams

A word can do this

or, as tonight, the mirror of the fire

of my mind, burning as if it could go on

burning itself, burning down

feeding on everything

till there is nothing in life

that has not fed that fire

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• Resolution And Independence by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Repentance by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Remembrance Of by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
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• Picture of Daniel in the Lion’s Den at Hamilton Palace by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Personal Talk by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• On The Same Occasion by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• On The Final Submission Of The Tyrolese by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott from Abbotsford by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• On A Celebrated Event In Ancient History by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• O’erweening Statesmen Have Full Long Relied by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• O’er The Wide Earth, On Mountain And On Plain by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Ode by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Ode To Lycoris. May 1817 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Ode to Duty by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Ode Composed On A May Morning by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• October, 1803 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• Occasioned By The Battle Of Waterloo February 1816 by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth
• O Nightingale! Thou Surely Art by William Wordsworth by William Wordsworth

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