January does not make nice.
But, we are going into the light again.
Soon the air, which is brittle and crunchy like Spider roll
bones, gives way to the warm green of Summer and
sunlight’s eternal return. Winding backward, I am stale
beyond 6 years ago when in sunlight I rang red and
pink; rosing and rising into my paper youth.
January is not a kind month.
But we are whispering again about newness; applause
from a collective audience.
Memories dance throughout this maze when the connection is
missing.
When the dawn brings fake naifs, phony idle wanderers, we
sing.
We sing of our written refreshments.
We sing of our chortles of rye.
We despise our fear.
We fear our loathing.
We sing.
We sing.
And we never cry when the connection is missing.
Soon, the air will change.
Soon the air, which is brittle and crunchy like Spider roll
bones, gives way to the warm green of Summer and
sunlight’s eternal return.
Kara Schwartz is a High School Librarian and poet and author. Her poem was published last year by From Whispers to Roars. Her poems explore the din and silence. Kara lives in Maine with my husband and two dogs who are so wild she calls them the wolf and the dingo.
Commentaires