When we talk about realism, we talk about it mostly in terms of the banal. The can rolling down the hill, desperate impatience in waiting rooms and lines, offhand gestures and flat lighting––those details that we take to signify everyday life as it is lived. The ...
In Louise Glück’s poem “The Garden,” we are shown an image of tenderness:
Look at her, touching his cheek
to make a truce, her fingers
cool with spring rain;
in thin grass, bursts of purple crocus—
even here, even at the beginning of love
her hand leaving his face makes
an image of departure.
The first half presents a simple enough image—a woman touching her lover’s cheek—and yet the following stanza complicates the image and turns it into a moment of loss—“an ...