The poem
Tell yourself as it gets cold and gray falls from the air that you will go on walking, hearing the same tune no matter where you find yourself -- inside the dome of dark or under the cracking white of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow. Tonight as it gets cold tell yourself what you know which is nothing but the tune your bones play as you keep going. And you will be able for once to lie down under the small fire of winter stars. And if it happens that you cannot go on or turn back and you find yourself where you will be at the end, tell yourself in that final flowing of cold through your limbs that you love what you are.
mark strand is absolutely my favorite poet.His poems have such weight to them. I especially love " lines for winter" it just explodes within me every time i read it, it gets right into my bloodstream.
Lynn, you copied that comment directly from Mary Louise Parker's comment on page 218 of the most recent "O" Oprah Magazine for October 2004. Now, as a Mark Strand fan, I find it hard to believe that you couldn't come up with your own words to describe how you enjoy this poem...c'mon....!
The last line of the poem ruins it. It is trite, prosaic, and unworthy of the rest of the poem.
Yep, I tend to agree with Roberta. Tell yourself that love yourself as you are ... sounds like a line stolen from Oprah.
Better, in my view, that that line be replaced with something like
that you will go on
that you are
but I'd have to come back to it (in other words, go on for a day or a few) to see if my instincts are right...
the previous poster is silly for suggesting
"that you'll go on
that you are" or whatever it was. talk about trite!
this poem is about death, and the acceptance of it. get it?
This poem is more than just loving yourself or death...it reflects the simplicity of life, its absolute nature and humanity's ability to blend with it in contentment...the individual inner voice and the solitude reflects this.
a great poem about asserting self-belief in the face of adversity and then death.
i found myself thinking of Adrienne Rich's little known poem, "Song", while reading this...particularly the last stanza:
"If I'm lonely
it's with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore
in the last red light of the year
that knows what it is, that knows it's neither
ice nor mud nor winter light
but wood, with a gift for burning"
i think that this poem "lines for winter" is a good poem that explains how important it is to not get caught up with age and how the simplicity of life is just as important as not focusing on the complicaitions of death.