I Was Dreaming In My Dreaming

I Dreamed That I Was Old

I dreamed that I was old: in stale declension
Fallen from my prime, when company
Was mine, cat-nimbleness, and green invention,
Before time took my leafy hours away.

My wisdom, ripe with body's ruin, found
Itself tart recompense for what was lost
In false exchange: since wisdom in the ground
Has no apocalypse or pentecost.

I wept for my youth, sweet passionate young thought,
And cozy women dead that by my side
Once lay: I wept with bitter longing, not
Remembering how in my youth I cried.

      Stanley Kunitz, who just died at the age of 100

I'm going to take his Collected Poems to work with me tomorrow and read some more, and remember that Loren Webster of "In A Dark Time" introduced me to Kunitz, and that Liisa sent me the aforementioned Collected Poems. Thanks again, Liisa! I still get a lot of mileage out of this volume. It holds a place of honor on my night stand.