...
Then there was life
with it’s cruel houses
and people who seldom touched –
though touch is all –
...
but I am rowing, I am rowing,
though the wind pushes me back
and I know that that island will not be perfect,
it will have the flaws of life,
the absurdities of the dinner table,
but there will be a door
and I will open it
and I will get rid of the rat inside of me,
the gnawing pestilential rat.
God will take it with his two hands
and embrace it.
...
excerpts from ROWING by Anne Sexton
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