GLÜCK, Louise
    
      
    
      
    
      
    Gretel in Darkness
  
    
      
    This is the world we wanted.
  
All who would have seen us dead
are dead. I hear the witch's cry
break in the moonlight through a sheet
of sugar: God rewards.
Her tongue shrivels into gas . . .
    
      
    Now, far from women's arms
  
and memory of women, in our father's hut
we sleep, are never hungry.
    
      
    Why do I not forget?
  
My father bars the door, bars harm
from this house, and it is years.
    
      
    No one remembers. Even you, my brother,
  
summer afternoons you look at me as though
you meant to leave,
as though it never happened.
But I killed for you. I see armed firs,
the spires of that gleaming kiln--
    
      
    Nights I turn to you to hold me
  
but you are not there.
Am I alone? Spies
hiss in the stillness, Hansel,
we are there still and it is real, real,
    that black forest and the fire in earnest.
    
      
    
      
    
      
    Averno
  
    
      
    …..
    
      
    
      
    Doesn’t everyone want to feel in the night
  
the beloved body, compass, polestar,
to hear the quiet breathing that says
I am alive, that means also
you are alive, because you hear me,
you are here with me.
    
      
    …..
    
      
    
      
    
      
    Witchgrass
  
    
      
    …..
    
      
    
      
    I don’t need your praise
  
to survive. I was here first,
before you were here, before
you ever planted a garden.
And I’ll be here when only the sun and moon
are left, and the sea, and the wide field.
    
      
    I will constitute the field.
  
    
      
    
      
    The Red Poppy
  
    
      
    The great thing
  
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.
    
      
    
      
    Snowdrops
  
    
      
    Do you know what I was, how I lived?  You know
  
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.
    
      
    I did not expect to survive,
  
earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring--
    
      
    afraid, yes, but among you again
  
crying yes risk joy
    
      
    in the raw wind of the new world.