Song
by Robert Hass
Afternoon cooking in the fall sun–
who is more naked
than the man–
yelling, “Hey, I’m home!”
to an empty house?
thinking because the bay is clear,
the hills in yellow heat,
& scrub oak red in gullies
that great crowds of family
should tumble from the rooms
to throw their bodies of the Papa-body,
I-am-loved
Cat sleeps in the windowgleam,
dust motes.
On the oak table
filets of sole
stewing in the juice of tangerines,
slices of green pepper
on a bone-white dish.
My Take:
This is just my interpretation of this poem; there maybe several others. A man is cooking in the afternoon. The day is bright, there are no clouds. But because the solitary sun is yellow, the numerous hills have also taken its complexion. He thinks its a home, but its merely a house. One on a beautiful day. The cat is unresponsive to him. Filet of sole (a kind of fish) are stewing in the juice of tangerines and slices of green pepper on a bone-white dish. The color is bone-white. Its almost perfect but not quite. The food is great. But loneliness looms in this poem. There is no one to share the tasty food with, no one to enjoy the clear day with.
A good house, good food, good weather, and even adorable pets become more beautiful when they are shared with family and friends. Even if someone has all these things, the naked truth is that love from friends and family is needed.
by Robert Hass
Afternoon cooking in the fall sun–
who is more naked
than the man–
yelling, “Hey, I’m home!”
to an empty house?
thinking because the bay is clear,
the hills in yellow heat,
& scrub oak red in gullies
that great crowds of family
should tumble from the rooms
to throw their bodies of the Papa-body,
I-am-loved
Cat sleeps in the windowgleam,
dust motes.
On the oak table
filets of sole
stewing in the juice of tangerines,
slices of green pepper
on a bone-white dish.
My Take:
This is just my interpretation of this poem; there maybe several others. A man is cooking in the afternoon. The day is bright, there are no clouds. But because the solitary sun is yellow, the numerous hills have also taken its complexion. He thinks its a home, but its merely a house. One on a beautiful day. The cat is unresponsive to him. Filet of sole (a kind of fish) are stewing in the juice of tangerines and slices of green pepper on a bone-white dish. The color is bone-white. Its almost perfect but not quite. The food is great. But loneliness looms in this poem. There is no one to share the tasty food with, no one to enjoy the clear day with.
A good house, good food, good weather, and even adorable pets become more beautiful when they are shared with family and friends. Even if someone has all these things, the naked truth is that love from friends and family is needed.
Singing oneness!
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