I feel pity for my sister who is dying somewhere in a lonely house
I feel pity for my dog who had to die without me on a table after months of pain
I feel pity for the stranger in the hospital bed who is never touched but sleeps there nonetheless
What love for me
What love for them I feel
Absolute pity, tenderness
I feel pity and sadness for the children in the school who are not given a fair shot
I feel pity for the books that are published and then burned
With bodies that fell a thousand trees
I feel pity for the trees
Left outside in the cold and wind
To fend for themselves with roots so thick, and no one sees
I feel pity for the sky, with blue vapors
It hugs the clouds, and the clouds don’t care
I feel pity for my legs, this desk
I feel pity for this desk, its wooden face
Won’t I just throw it away when I am done with it
I feel pity for the moon
Raging against the day, and what for, its crazy face
All ghostly, that is what they really say about it
I feel pity for the stars, the blue stars, and the red stars
And the green stars, I feel pity for the stars that shoot sparks
And the green-gray
I feel pity for the colors
I feel pity for this room
Where I will go and bring a life in
I feel pity for that life, and more
I feel pity for all of the lives
That go on and no one even stops to notice
I feel pity for the flowers
The birds, all of them
And even pity for the birds
But I don’t feel pity for you
I don’t pity you
You big hot thing
I don’t feel pity for your arms
Which could hold me for a thousand hours
And I want them to
I don’t feel pity for you
Among all these things, I love you more
More and most of all
And you are careless, and ceaseless
Like you always are to everyone
I don’t feel pity
You have this poem, this book
I don’t feel pity
They will talk of you for a thousand years
You gorgeous spirit you
You crazy nothing
Blond hair and sublime torso
Smile more than a million men
A truly million dollar man
In greenish suit
Wild spirit, you
I love you
I love you when you’re rocking
I love you when you’re rocking
Always for me
But never for me
Always always
In the wind
Dorothea Lasky is the author of three full-length collections of poetry: Thunderbird, Black Life, and AWE. She teaches poetry at Columbia University. This poem originally appeared in Tin House #62: Winter Reading.