Denise Levertov

Denise Levertov biographic info

Stepping Westward

What is green in me darkens, muscadine. If woman is inconstant, good, I am faithful to ebb and flow, I fall in season and now is a time of ripening. If her part is to be true, a north star, good, I hold steady in the black sky and vanish by day, yet burn there in blue or above quilts of cloud. There is no savor more sweet, more salt that to be glad to be what, woman, and who, myself, I am, a shadow that grows longer as the sun moves, drawn out on a thread of wonder. If I bear burdens they begin to be remembered as gifts, goods, a basket of bread that hurts my shoulders but closes me in fragrance. I can eat as I go.

Other poems by Denise Levertov:
The Day the Audience Walked Out on Me, and Why
Variations on a theme by Rilke
The Ache of Marriage
People at Night
Adam's Complaint
The Secret
The Cult of Relics