A review by painauchocolat
From Room to Room by Jane Kenyon

This long struggle to be at home
in the body, this difficult friendship.

-

A land not mine, still
forever memorable,
the waters of its ocean
chill and fresh.
Sand on the bottom whiter than chalk,
and the air drunk, like wine;
late sun lays bare
the rosy limbs of the pinetrees.
Sunset in the ethereal waves:
I cannot tell if the day
is ending, or the world, or if
the secret of secrets is within me again.
1964