Marilyn Hacker: Exiles

Exiles

Her brown falcon perches above the sink
as steaming water forks over my hands.
Below the wrists they shrivel and turn pink.
I am in exile in my own land.

Her half-grown cats scuffle across the floor
trailing a slime of blood from where they fed.
I lock the door. They claw under the door.
I am an exile in my own bed.

Her spotted mongrel, bristling with red mange,
sleeps on the threshold of the Third Street bar
where I drink brandy as the couples change.
I am in exile where my neighbors are.

On the pavement, cans of ashes burn.
Her green lizard scuttles from the light
around torn cardboard charred to glowing fern.
I am in exile in my own sight.

Her blond child sits on the stoop when I come
back at night. Cold hands, blue lids; we both
need sleep. She tells me she is going to die.
I am in exile in my own youth.

Lady of distances, this fire, this water,
this earth makes sanctuary where I stand.
Call of your animals and your blond daughter,
I am in exile in my own hands.


The poem "Exiles" by Marilyn Hacker discusses someone that lives and learns to relax when things tend to happen when she is surrounded by it. The lady that is involved in the story learns to take away and release everything that tends to create a stress to her a create a distraction towards her presence. She tries to to hide her feelings by saying i am in exile in my own hands. Exile means the thought of being away and or restricted from coming to a certain place.