Sunday, July 29, 2007

Counting Down the DAys

For some reason, Bishop's villanelle sums up exactly how I felt for the past couple of days, like things are slipping away from me, but I can't find the energy or the impetus to hold on to them. And so you just find yourself resigned to things, knowing that it can't get any worse but that there's no hope of things getting better as well. Everything loops, repeats itself, not knowing where it goes but not knowing where it stops as well.

One Art
Elizabeth Bishop

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

---Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

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