Seven Ages, The

American Poetry Review, The, Jan/Feb 2001 by Gluck, Louise

In my first dream the world appeared

the salt, the bitter, the forbidden, the sweet

In my second I descended

I was human, I couldn't just see a thing

beast that I am

I had to touch, to contain it

I hid in the groves,

I worked in the fields until the fields were bare

time

that will never come again

the dry wheat bound, caskets

of figs and olives

I even loved a few times in my disgusting human way

and like everyone I called that accomplishment

erotic freedom,

absurd as it seems

The wheat gathered and stored, the last

fruit dried: time

that is hoarded, that is never used,

does it also end?

In my first dream the world appeared

the sweet, the forbidden

but there was no garden, only

raw elements

I was human:

I had to beg to descend

the salt, the bitter, the demanding, the preemptive

And like everyone, I took, I was taken

I dreamed

I was betrayed:

Earth was given to me in a dream

In a dream I possessed it