the porch

They Sit Together on the Porch

by Wendell Berry

They sit together on the porch, the dark
Almost fallen, the house behind them dark.
Their supper done with, they have washed and dried
The dishes–only two plates now, two glasses,
Two knives, two forks, two spoons–small work for two.
She sits with her hands folded in her lap,
At rest. He smokes his pipe. They do not speak,
And when they speak at last it is to say
What each one knows the other knows. They have
One mind between them, now, that finally
For all its knowing will not exactly know
Which one goes first through the dark doorway, bidding
Goodnight, and which sits on a while alone.



gz said...

that hit the spot, right in the centre.

memories of just that, without the pipe.

red dirt girl said...


good memories to hold on to when the rest of life feels off center ... i hope!


soubriquet said...

It's a dogtrot.

See, I'm learning the vernacular.
They could go in together too.
Or one might fossick about for a while.

Pauline said...

wow - two of my favorite things in a row - Journey's music and Wendell Berry's poetry. Thanks RDG!

red dirt girl said...

Soubry ~

Yes, well, it definitely isn't a SHOTGUN! For some reason I knew you'd be the one to add they could go in together. I thought fossick was a mining term. Did you mean fussock?


red dirt girl said...

Hi Pauline!

So good to see you here, girlfriend! Us Journey fans have to stick together, right?? Glad you enjoyed Wendell's poem. I think it is so lovely - about that level of comfort and knowingness a couple can reach together - to be still together.
Your welcome!


goatman said...

I thought dogtrot as well but thought that was the open covered porch area between two separate parts of the house such that breezes could circulate to cool the structure. I have only seen these in Texas.