Saturday, January 17, 2015

Published in Parabola (Print) 2011, and Skyline (Web)


Spring for Edwin


I went out to meet
the wind half-way;
something new is always
turning up,
though the crows complain.

When Mom died
Daddy went to the ocean
to meet the tossing--
the change halfway.

It should be winter
longer than this.
For a very long time
I should be buried
in snow.

It seems wrong
that the very day
you were buried
change should ripple
out in such a way--

Everything blooms in shock.

The spring equinox has come
and someone else will
be the teller of the seasons
since you are strangely silent.

Yet the master of language
you are, now speaks
in perfect metaphor—wind,
the red-bud tree, the deer
in the back yard...

You continue,
evenso,
my heart is in some
snowy place.

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