Twenty below
this morning
and I gasp
at the air,
part shock
and part delight
in the pure cold chill of it.
And though the sun
is barely warm
on the cheek
it is light
and getting lighter—
and that is just
the light we see.
There is more,
they say,
and I feel it,
some vaster spectrum,
they way I feel
the love I cannot
see, how it blesses me
like the sun,
blesses me
even like
the cold.
Posts Tagged ‘winter’
Uplifting
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cold, light, love, poem, poetry, spectrum, winter on January 15, 2013 | 2 Comments »
Almost
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged certainty, poem, poetry, snow, uncertainty, winter on December 10, 2012 | 3 Comments »
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes
and no. No advice that sticks.
The snow comes down
like an afterthought. A flake
on the street. A flake on the nose.
Sometimes I live this way. Perhapsishly
and maybeing. Sixty-five shades
of gray. No rule I can believe in
enough to write it down. Life
itself the exception. Every day
the proof, and then this snow.
I used to think I knew what
gravity was. And love. True,
the snow comes down. But
the heart? How to explain
this rising, this infinite
falling apart, the tangled
astonishing mess. This snow
falling from nowhere. No. No. No.
No. No. No. I say. And yes.
December 2
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cold, poem, poetry, winter on December 2, 2012 | 4 Comments »
Even the grass
seems to disbelieve
the calendar, greening
around the porch.
And the fruit fly
in the window.
And the sun,
though low,
floods the rooms,
the heart.
As if winter
has forgotten us.
I feel myself
softening.
As if the cold
will never come.
The Journey of 300 miles
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poems, poetry, presence, the journey, travel, winter on February 24, 2012 | 1 Comment »
drive
sing
cry
slow
ice
sign
white
go
slide
brake
radio
sing
and
sing
and
gust
honk
slush
lines
each
here
a
choice
to
arrive
Shall I Get Out My Shovel Tanka
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged friendship, loss, love, poem, poetry, separation, tanka, winter on February 14, 2012 | 2 Comments »
such a short time
I’ve been gone, but now how high
the drifts of snow where
once we danced a path between
my house and yours
seven
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, doors, haiku, inquiry, knowing, listening, not knowing, poem, weeds, winter on January 13, 2012 | 1 Comment »
first the stars
then all the space between the stars
slipped into my tea
*
dried and dead
I leave them in the vase
the naked tulips
*
winter
every cloud
a love letter
*
hey poet
get out of the way
said the poem
*
bird on the wire
for a few moments
we both stop singing
*
the weeds gone to seed—
and who is this one
who thinks they are weeds
*
another door,
another door, another wall
becomes a door
haiku
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haiku, relief, shoveling, sunlight, winter on December 25, 2011 | 1 Comment »
Counting Blessings
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apocalypse, gratitude, poem, winter on December 22, 2011 | 3 Comments »
Three degrees,
snow on the drive
the ninth stargazer
lily opened
and there was no
apocalypse—
no horsemen four,
no asteroid,
no anti-Christ.
That made this first
cold day of winter
very, very nice.
Winter Song
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, poem, winter on November 18, 2011 | 2 Comments »
The seasons always change. And life will find a way.
—Sara Bareilles,
Cracked, the sidewalk,
and snapped, the branches,
and bent the dead weeds
with their shriveled leaves
weary like prayer flags spent.
Even the rocks are chipped
and the smell of decay
weaves into the breeze.
There is nothing on this
late autumn walk
that seems whole, which is to say
everything is broken together—
me, the weeds, the sad concrete—
even so this odd heart,
ripening out of season,
chooses to fall deeper in love
with the world, though the forecast
is for cold and getting colder.
