By Marianne Boruch b. 1950 Marianne Boruch
I walked out, and the nest   
was already there by the step.  Woven basket   
of a saint   
sent back to life as a bird   
who proceeded to make   
a mess of things.  Wind   
right through it, and any eggs   
long vanished.  But in my hand it was   
intricate pleasure, even the thorny reeds   
softened in the weave.  And the fading   
leaf mold, hardly   
itself anymore, merely a trick   
of light, if light   
can be tricked.  Deep in a life   
is another life.  I walked out, the nest   
already by the step.   

Poem copyright © 1996 by Marianne Boruch, whose most recent book of poetry is “Poems: New and Selected,” Oberlin College Press, 2004. Reprinted from “A Stick That Breaks And Breaks,” Oberlin College Press, 1997, with permission of the author. First published in the journal “Field.”

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Poet Marianne Boruch b. 1950

POET’S REGION U.S., Midwestern

Subjects Living, Nature, Animals

Poetic Terms Free Verse

 Marianne  Boruch


Poet and essayist Marianne Boruch grew up in Chicago. She is the author of numerous collections of poetry, including, most recently, Eventually One Dreams the Real Thing (2016); Cadaver, Speak (2014); The Book of Hours (2011), which won the Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award; Grace, Fallen from (2008); and Poems: New & Selected (2004). Her memoir, The Glimpse Traveler (2011), concerns a hitchhiking trip she took in 1971. In the Blue . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Living, Nature, Animals

POET’S REGION U.S., Midwestern

Poetic Terms Free Verse

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Originally appeared in Poetry magazine.

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