no matter what you give them,
still want the moon.
white meat and dark,
The marriage bed
and the cradle,
still empty arms.
You give them land,
their own earth under their feet,
still they take to the roads
And water: dig them the deepest well,
still it’s not deep enough
to drink the moon from.
Denise Levertov's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Adam's Complaint by Denise Levertov )
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