It
could have happened.
It had to happen.
It happened earlier. Later.
Nearer. Farther off.
It happened, but not to you.
You were saved because you were the first.
You were saved because you were the last.
Alone. With others.
On the right. The left.
Because it was raining. Because of the shade.
Because the day was sunny.
You were in luck -- there was a forest.
You were in luck -- there were no trees.
You were in luck -- a rake, a hook, a beam, a brake,
A jamb, a turn, a quarter-inch, an instant . . .
So you're here? Still dizzy from
another dodge, close shave, reprieve?
One hole in the net and you slipped through?
I couldn't be more shocked or
speechless.
Listen,
how your heart pounds inside me.
"Could Have," Wisława Szymborska
4 comments:
Wow, that's a wonderful poem! I was at my blog for the first time in years and saw your post on the sidebar. Your writing is stunning as ever. I am featuring a poem a day for National Poetry Month at my Facebook page. Would love to share this! Would you give approval, and, if so, how should I credit your work?
Message me at Facebook under Melladee Makela (Lydia is middle name I used at blog). I'll accept friend request if you're there.
So good to see you back! Absolutely use it or anything here. This poem is available on many poetry sites. I used this one: https://www.sas.upenn.edu/~traister/szymborska.html
I am not on Facebook.
Lastly - don’t credit me. Credit Wislawa Szymborska!
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