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Jane Kenyon - The Blue Bowl

Like primitives we buried the cat
with his bowl. Bare-handed
we scraped sand and gravel
back into the hole.
                               They fell with a hiss
and thud on his side,
on his long red fur, the white feathers
between his toes, and his
long, not to say aquiline, nose.

We stood and brushed each other off.
There are sorrows keener than these.

Silent the rest of the day, we worked,
ate, stared, and slept. It stormed
all night; now it clears, and a robin
burbles from a dripping bush
like the neighbor who means well
but always says the wrong thing.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 278 times | Comments and analysis of The Blue Bowl by Jane Kenyon Comments (0)

The Blue Bowl - Comments and Information

Poet: Jane Kenyon
Poem: The Blue Bowl
Volume: Otherwise: New & Selected Poems
Year: Published/Written in 1996
Poem of the Day: Oct 19 2011
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