from Denise Levertov’s The Sorrow Dance, New Directions, 1967
To speak of sorrow
works upon it,
moves it from its
crouched place barring
the way to and from the soul’s hall —
out in the light it
shows clear, whether
shrunken or known as
a giant wrath —
discrete
at least, where before
its great shadow joined
the walls and roof and seemed
to uphold the hall like a beam.
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