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# 'The Writer,' by Richard Wilbur
- URL: https://joshualore.com/inthemiddleway/in-her-room-at-the-prow-of-the-house-where/
- Published: 2016-01-12T21:07:10.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-03T04:54:12.000Z
- Author: Joshua Lore
- Tags: Uncategorized, #Migrated-1788408094757, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-09-03 00:01

> “In her room at the prow of the house  
> Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,  
> My daughter is writing a story.  
>  
> I pause in the stairwell, hearing  
> From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys  
> Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.  
>  
> Young as she is, the stuff  
> Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:  
> I wish her a lucky passage.  
>  
> But now it is she who pauses,  
> As if to reject my thought and its easy figure.  
> A stillness greatens, in which  
>  
> The whole house seems to be thinking,  
> And then she is at it again with a bunched clamor  
> Of strokes, and again is silent.  
>  
> I remember the dazed starling  
> Which was trapped in that very room, two years ago;  
> How we stole in, lifted a sash  
>  
> And retreated, not to affright it;  
> And how for a helpless hour, through the crack of the door,  
> We watched the sleek, wild, dark  
>  
> And iridescent creature  
> Batter against the brilliance, drop like a glove  
> To the hard floor, or the desk-top,  
>  
> And wait then, humped and bloody,  
> For the wits to try it again; and how our spirits  
> Rose when, suddenly sure,  
>  
> It lifted off from a chair-back,  
> Beating a smooth course for the right window  
> And clearing the sill of the world.  
>  
> It is always a matter, my darling,  
> Of life or death, as I had forgotten. I wish  
> What I wished for you before, but harder.”

— Richard Wilbur, ‘*The Writer*’ (Image: ‘*The Creation of the Birds*’ by Michael O’brien)