Poetry in April: Adrienne Rich

We've come to the last Thursday in April and the last day for sharing poems. This week, all of us are featuring poems by Adrienne Rich, a National Book Award and MacArthur "Genius" Award winner, among many other prizes and honors. You can learn more about her here. The poem I've picked to share was published in 1995, but it feels very apt for the moment we're living in.

What Kind of Times Are These

There's a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill

and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows

near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted

who disappeared into those shadows.

I've walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don't be fooled

this isn't a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here,

our country moving closer to its own truth and dread,

its own ways of making people disappear.

I won't tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods

meeting the unmarked strip of light—

ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:

I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.

And I won't tell you where it is, so why do I tell you

anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these

to have you listen at all, it's necessary

to talk about trees.

From Dark Fields of the Republic: Poems 1991-1995, (c) 1995

Be sure to visit Bonny, Kat, Kym, and Vera to read their selections. 

Thanks for joining us "poetry nerds" for another National Poetry Month, and a special thank-you to Kym for leading the charge!