Wednesday, January 1, 2014

The Once and Future Year

December 31st, 10:13pm.
It’s come to this, the night
When promise sits with pain.
Look, the glass just poured
Reflects an eye, funhouse
Large, a disembodied organ,
By virtue of which novelty
It may tell stories, may teach
The violent wisdom of ancients,
May gaze, grotesque, so deep
A fish would have to learn
To fluoresce in such black,
Cold waters, or die trying.
Empty the glass, then, yes?
January 1st, 8:09am.
How ’bout this: morning,
Again! — weak sun, but
Sun, to be sure. Here
We are. Maybe we hoped
To be there, but we’re
Not. Toss off the sheets,
Greet what’s ours, offer up
Odes to the still unwritten,
Drive all the satellite roads,
Abundant as motes meandering
Down the young and spindly light.
But first, remember, breathe.
Steady in, steady out. Go.

written on January 1, 2012


Bibliomama said...

Breathing steady here. Not even hung over. As ever, in awe of your mad skillz. xo

Christine said...

Indeed. I love your poetry.

De said...

Wow! I missed this first time around? Must have, because I'd remember. I think it's great.

Elizabeth Dahl said...

Is resignation a bad thing? At least it is clarity and truth. I over anticipate change every year, the transformational kind, and then resent the continuity of my life. I am learning to appreciate the process of producing peals (the sheer irritation) and germinating seeds. Everything is beautiful in its time. So glad for your lyrical point of view.