Thoughts of a Solitary Farmhouse
By Franz Wright
And not to feel bad about dying.
Not to take it so personally—
it is only
the force we exert all our lives
to exclude death from our thoughts
that confronts us, when it does arrive,
as the horror of being excluded— . . .
something like that, the Canadian wind
coming in off Lake Erie
rattling the windows, horizontal snow
appearing out of nowhere
across the black highway and fields like billions of white bees.
Copyright Credit: Franz Wright, “Thoughts of a Solitary Farmhouse” from Ill Lit: Selected and New Poems. Copyright © 1998 by Franz Wright. Reprinted with the permission of Oberlin College Press.
Source: Ill Lit: Selected and New Poems (Oberlin College Press, 1998)