Charles Simic is our current poet laureate (something that John McCain didn’t know, apparently, though I wouldn’t bet that most of the major candidates did). This is a troubling poem, familiar to anyone who has witnessed a marriage or an enduring relationship take a dark turn. This is not my present or my future, but it was my past. And sometimes, storms happen while the trees remain still.
Clouds Gathering
It seemed the kind of life we wanted.
Wild strawberries and cream in the morning.
Sunlight in every room.
The two of us walking by the sea naked.
Some evenings, however, we found ourselves
Unsure of what comes next.
Like tragic actors in a theater on fire,
With birds circling over our heads,
The dark pines strangely still,
Each rock we stepped on bloodied by the sunset.
We were back on our terrace sipping wine.
Why always this hint of an unhappy ending?
Clouds of almost human appearance
Gathering on the horizon, but the rest lovely
With the air so mild and the sea untroubled.
The night suddenly upon us, a starless night.
You lighting a candle, carrying it naked
Into our bedroom and blowing it out quickly.
The dark pines and grasses strangely still.
Thank you for posting this poem. It forces me to think about a relationship long dismantled but still very real and raw in my heart. I know that that sounds overly dramatic, but that’s the way I feel. Somehow Simic reminds me of all the things that were good in my past relationship but also all the things that went sour. Thank you.