In a kitchen where mushrooms were washed,
the mushroom scent lingers.
As the sea must keep for a long time the scent of the whale.
As a person who’s once loved completely,
a country once conquered,
does not release that stunned knowledge.
Jane Hirshfield, Writer’s Almanac
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Tagged: contemporary poetry, In A Kitchen Where Mushrooms Were Washed, Jane Hirshfield, Jane Hirshfield poem, poetry, sea
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