Friday, March 23, 2012

Mar. 23, 2012
The curse has come upon me, though I still unbelieve,
and greatly do I fear the time when I must take your leave.
It happened, all unknowing, all unknowable it seems
to think I never will see you again--perchance in dreams.
Somehow I am left here fractioned what I was before,
a woman old and weeping over the clothes that you last wore.

Early March morning, after midnight

It would not surprise me if trees let no leaves,
if the grass would stay brown and we saw no new geese.
If no wildflowers bloomed I'd give no second thought;
I wouldn't half mind if spring completely forgot.
If I sat all summer alone in my room,
my face turned from the window into tear-filled gloom
and waited for winter to cover my days,
would the pain of remembrance be drifted away?
These signs of new life are like slap in the face,
the tip of a crocus, new kittens at play,
when one I remember will no more return.
Unfillable promise in unfurling fern.

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Gazing at treetops

Of what were they speaking,
all their limbs upraised,
and their heads high lifted,
now frozen in praise?
And who the listener,
and who still sees?
Had they an answer before turning
Into a circle of trees?

March 8

Although I shout in whispers no one seems to hear.
I dial and it keeps ringing but the empty sky is clear.
I walk around in circles banging on a drum,
but for all my earnest effort I might just as well be dumb.
No answer, and there cannot be, no answer would suffice;
but just to know that someone hears my shouting would be nice.

March 7

There are threads that keep me connected.
The winds of chaos blow, so strong
I am lifted off my feet,
my hair and my limbs streaming behind me.
But sometimes amid the fear that I am swept away
I know the thread
by the slight but certain tug in some part of me.
Though I cannot hold fast by my own strength,
I am held fast.