In the Grove
Jane Kenyon
She lay on her back in the timothy
and gazed past the doddering
auburn heads of sumac.
and gazed past the doddering
auburn heads of sumac.
A cloud—huge, dignified,
and calm—covered the sun
but did not, could not, put it out.
The light surged back again....
Nothing could turn her then
from that joy so violent
and hard to distinguish from pain.
