night walk

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Here is a poem by Franz Wright that I've been thinking about for awhile now. I had just learned about his passing and it hit me really hard because his poetry was a huge part of my life at some point in time. I memorized some lines of this poem by heart, the ending is absolutely perfect.


Night Walk

The all-night convenience store's empty
and no one is behind the counter.
You open and shut the glass door a few times
causing a bell to go off,
but no one appears. You only came
to buy a pack of cigarettes, maybe
a copy of yesterday's newspaper --
finally you take one and leave
thirty-five cents in its place.
It is freezing, but it is a good thing
to step outside again:
you can feel less alone in the night,
with lights on here and there
between the dark buildings and trees.
Your own among them, somewhere.
There must be thousands of people
in this city who are dying
to welcome you into their small bolted rooms,
to sit you down and tell you
what has happened to their lives.
And the night smells like snow.
Walking home for a moment
you almost believe you could start again.
And an intense love rushes to your heart,
and hope. It's unendurable, unendurable.

— Franz Wright, from God's Silence


Happy National Poetry Month, my friends.
It's so nice to be back here.

2 comments:

  1. I remember this book sustained me during one fall/winter, and the the last lines of this poem in particular haunted me on my walks in the evenings, in the snow.

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    1. I keep reciting these lines lately, its really haunting.

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