In A Dark Time, Theodore Roethke
The nobility of soul at odds with circumstance may sometimes feel like madness. Is it I or the world that is out of step? The doom of Roethke’s poem presses down like the weight of a summer storm or winter waves churning on the beach. Confusion builds “like some heat-maddened summer fly.” Who am I? What order might there be in my place in the world? “Which I is I?” And yet, there is an anchor and an ascent. Nobility of soul rises, collects itself in a tranquility which stands against the tearing wind. In a dark time the light shines from within.
Todd Breyfogle, Denver, Colorado