XIII
The rules break like a thermometer,
quicksilver spills across the charted systems,
were out in a country that has no language
no laws, were chasing the raven and the wren
through gorges unexplored since dawn
whatever we do together is pure invention
the maps they gave us were out of date
by years
were driving through the desert
wondering if the water will hold out
the hallucinations turn to simple villages
the music on the radio comes clear
neither Rosenkavalier nor Götterdämmerung
but a womans voice singing old songs
with new words, with a quiet bass, a flute
plucked and fingered by women outside the law.
Twenty-One Love Poems XIII
written byAdrienne Rich
© Adrienne Rich