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Barrie’s Dream, the Wild Geese
- Wesleyan University Press
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even a piece of string could not go through it! So I asked her, Woman, why have you sold or given me this ring? Nunlike she bobbed her white head-scarf chastisingly, black eyes, black under her eyes, she said, Something is being taken away. You must keep seeing: everything must be turned to love that is not love. Mother, going in to death, can you do it: love something that was there that is being taken away. Barrie’s Dream, the Wild Geese “I dreamed about Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell—an old Penguin book of Bishop’s poetry—a thick china cup and a thick china sugar bowl, square, cream-colored, school stuff. And Lowell was there, he was talking and talking to us, he was saying, ‘She is the best—’ Then the geese flew over, and he stopped talking. Everyone stopped talking, because of the geese.” The sound of their wings! Oars rowing, laborious, wood against wood: it was a continuing thought, no, it was a labor, how to accept your lover’s love. Who could do it alone? Under our radiant sleep they were bearing us all night long. 198 door in the mountain ...