"Middle-Aged Woman at a Pond" by Alicia Suskin Ostriker

Middle-Aged Woman at a Pond

The first of June, grasses already tall
In which I lie with a book. All afternoon a cardinal
Has thrown the darts of his song.

One lozenge of sun remains on the pond,
The high crowns of the beeches have been transformed
By a stinging honey. Tell me, I think.

Frogspawn floats in its translucent sacs.
Tadpoles rehearse their crawls.
Here come the blackflies now,

And now the peepers. This is the nectar
In the bottom of the cup,
This blissfulness in which I strip and dive.

Let my questions stand unsolved
Like trees around a pond. Water’s cold lick
Is a response. I swim across the ring of it.

Source of the text – Alicia Suskin Ostriker, The Little Space: Poems Selected and New 1968-1998.  Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1998, p. 191.

TJB:  Swamp song. Floating in haiku tropes, somewhat resembling Ophelia, the poet prays for revelation & when none comes, accepts nature itself.