PASSAGE for Allen Ginsberg
Sunflowers beside the railroad tracks,
sunflowers giving back the beauty God gave you
to one lonely traveler
who spies you from a train window
as she passes on her way to another train station.
She wonders if she were like you
rooted to your bit of earth
would she be happy,
would she be satisfied
to have the world glide past and not regret it?
For a moment, she thinks so,
then decides that, no, she never could
and turns back to her book of poetry,
remembering how hard it was to get here
and that flowers have their places as people do
and she cannot simply exchange hers for another,
even though she wants it.
That's how it is.
Her mother told her.
Now she believes her,
although she wishes she didn't.
At fifty-three, she feels the need
to rebel against the inevitable winding down.
She already feels it in her bones,
feels artery deterioration, and imagines
cancerous indications on medical charts
she hopes will never be part of her life,
as she turns back to the window
to catch the last glimpse of the sunflowers
that sent her thoughts on a journey
from which she knows she will never return,
only go on and on
and then just go.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (PASSAGE for Allen Ginsberg by Ai Ogawa )
Poem of the Day
- I Remember, I Remember, Thomas Hood
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Warning, Jenny Joseph
- On the Ning Nang Nong, Spike Milligan
- A Thought, Robert Louis Stevenson
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- First Day at School, Roger McGough
- If, Rudyard Kipling
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(13 September 1916 – 23 November 1990)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 April 1918 – 27 February 2002)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edna St. Vincent Millay
(22 February 1892 – 19 October 1950)
(1886 - 1967)
(November 9 - 1937)