In the North by Adrienne Rich
How about another selection from Adrienne Rich?
In the North
By Adrienne Rich
Mulish, unregenerate,
not “as all men are”
but more than most
you sit up there in the sunset;
there are only three
hours of dark
in your night. You are
alone as an old king
with his white-gold beard
when in summer the ships
sail out, the heroes
singing, push off
for other lands. Only
in winter when
trapped in the ice
your kingdom flashes
under the northern lights
and the bees dream
in their hives, the young
men like the bees
hang near you
for lack of another,
remembering too, with some
remorseful tenderness
you are their king.
