joy has been a habit...

from my anthology of must read (a)merican poems

Jack Gilbert

Rain


Suddenly this defeat.
This rain.
The blues gone gray
And the browns gone gray
And yellow
A terrible amber.
In the cold streets
Your warm body.
In whatever room
Your warm body.
Among all the people
Your absence
The people who are always
Not you.


I have been easy with trees
Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.
Now
Suddenly
This rain.

           – from Views of Jeopardy, 1962

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This early Jack Gilbert piece is typical of his view of and need for isolation – “Suddenly this defeat” – in the wake of love. I’m fascinated by the fact that his poetry – in terms of imagery, theme, and music – has been constant. What he discovered in his first book, Views of Jeopardy (1962), has remained in his work, and is certainly evident in his most recent collection, Refusing Heaven (2005).

His sense of place is particular and effective: browns gone gray, the cold streets, in whatever room. He is, I think, attempting to counter the negative state of the dark weather, the cold, the crowd – made real by your absence and not you – with the necessity of the repeated “Your warm body”. The speaker’s voice is so inviting and real.

The poem begins and ends with rain – a metonymy for all that escapes us, not just sadness. The speaker’s life is weeping. Gilbert writes:

I have been easy with trees
Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.

Easy, familiar, habit. Our lives settle into their expected motions. Time drifts. Suddenly – the rain. And Gilbert moves the reader to a deeper level. “This rain,” he writes, leaving us there on the page – connected to loss in a wholly specific yet universal way.

Gilbert has so many great works that settling into one is no practical task. Open any book to any page, and your world will tremble.