A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about my problems with "the heart" in poems, or rather, using it in my poetry. Yesterday, I came across a lovely poem in a set of three by Jane Hirshfield and find it to be the perfect poem in using the heart as a metaphor and effectively tying in emotion without sounding too sentimental. It slays "the heart" as a cliché in poetry.
SOMETIMES THE HEART IS A SHALLOW AUTUMN RIVER by Jane Hirshfield (It is last poem on the page.)
I can't wait to read Hirshfield's new collection Come, Thief.
What are you reading?