This Jane Hirshfield poem came to my head last week while watching a few minutes of that dreadful “To Catch a Predator” program on MSNBC. I’m all in favor of sting operations to catch pedophiles, mind you, but am not at all certain it’s healthy or good for the rest of us to watch. I watched ten awful, heartbreaking minutes, and shuddered. Today’s poem fits how I felt.
For Horses, Horseflies
We know nothing of the lives of others.
Under the surface, what strange desires,
what rages, weaknesses, fears.
Sometimes it breaks into our daily paper
and we shake our heads in wonder –
“Who would behave in such a way” we ask.
Unspoken the thought, “Let me not be tested.”
Unspoken the thought, “Let me not be known.”
Under the surface, something that whispers
“Anything can be done.”
For horses, horseflies. For humans, shame.
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