When Louise Glück was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2020, I was so excited to share one of her poems in the poetry box. I love her poetry, but the more I looked at her dark and elliptical work, the further it seemed from something I’d post on the curb. I think she’d appreciate that, actually. Even her response to winning the prize was a kind of complaint.
But when she died last week at the age of 80, I tried again. And here is “The Night Migrations.” These are dark days, and Louise Gluck deserves the floor.
“these things we depend on,
they disappear”
