52. Love´s Labour Trost

Bewegende, trauernde Liebesgedichte von Jane Mayhall in Edward Hirsch´s Kolumne Poet´s Choice, Washington Post*) 15.2.04

She is left alone, unguarded and inconsolable. „I am the slave of my ardor, nobody/ knows your quality as I, who/ sprang to your need,“ she recalls in one poem. „Our joy was Eden,“ she concludes in another. „But when you died, it was insane.// And nature didn’t save us.“ The only anodyne is ardent creative work, the solace of making art, of defying time.