It’s poetry month (you’re celebrating, right?), and I’m signed up for Knopf’s poetry newsletter, gifting me with a new poem each day. Today’s email offered two poems by Mark Strand, and I thought I’d share the one that resonates with anyone with a passion, writing or otherwise.
The Midnight Club
By Mark Strand
The gifted have told us for years that they want to be loved
For what they are, that they, in whatever fullness is theirs,
Are perishable in twilight, just like us. So they work all night
In rooms that are cold and webbed with the moon’s light;
Sometimes, during the day, they lean on their cars,
And stare into the blistering valley, glassy and golden,
But mainly they sit, hunched in the dark, feet on the floor,
Hands on the table, shirts with a bloodstain over the heart.