Ripeness by Jane Hirshfield

Ripeness by Jane Hirshfield Ripeness is what falls away with ease. Not only the heavy apple, the pear, but also the dried …

The Task By Jane Hirshfield

The Task by Jane Hirshfield It is a simple garment, this slipped-on world. We wake into it daily — open eyes, braid …

Rebus by Jane Hirshfield

Rebus by Jane Hirshfield You work with what you are given, the red clay of grief, the black clay of stubbornness going …

The Envoy by Jane Hirshfield

The Envoy by Jane Hirshfield One day in that room, a small rat. Two days later, a snake. Who, seeing me enter, …

The Weighing By Jane Hirshfield

The Weighing by Jane Hirshfield The heart’s reasons seen clearly, even the hardest will carry its whip-marks and sadness and must be …

Tree By Jane Hirshfield

Tree by Jane Hirshfield It is foolish to let a young redwood grow next to a house. Even in this one lifetime, …

A Hand by Jane Hirshfield

A Hand by Jane Hirshfield A hand is not four fingers and a thumb. Nor is it palm and knuckles, not ligaments …

Metempsychosis by Jane Hirshfield

Metempsychosis by Jane Hirshfield Some stories last many centuries, others only a moment. All alter over that lifetime like beach-glass, grow distant …