It Is Not This Constant Thing
On The Current Events
by Jane Hirshfield
(first published in 1988)
The shadow of countries are changing,
like the figures in the dreams of a long sickness.
Argentina, which used to be so full of sunlight
and heroic, whistling pampas cowboys.
Greece, the lovely heifer of curving horns.
Thailand, Palestine, Salvador.
Of course, it is not this constant thing, history,
but ourselves,
like the wooden statue of some sacred figure,
wormed through,
with the bitter aftertaste on the heart
of too much coffee,
any evening,
after too much talk of unimportant things,
when all of it is important:
the cup placed with such a good fit
on its saucer, well and carefully made,
all the still-pieced pieces of our shared consent.