Two Unrelated Poems
A couple of short poems that wanted to be seen today
Snowed
When the snow comes …
Muffling and ending plans
Cardinals become red birds
And stayed spines
Bend to gleeful eyes
Morning
Viscous,
the light rises,
tugging the veil of morning
Gazing,
hazel dreams linger
in delicate delirium
Daring,
eyes refusing daylight
Gripping dreamscapes
Undaunted,
the sun demands
our rising
You left me yesterday
or
was it the year before?
Everything aches, still
in this insistent morning, mourning.
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“Morning, mourning” is the little blade here. Both poems feel like weather doing emotional labor, which is frankly very on brand for weather. Snow makes the world quiet enough for red birds and bent spines to become revelations. Morning is less polite. It arrives viscous, insistent, dragging us out of dreams whether grief is finished with us or not. The sun does not ask if we are ready to rise. Rude little star. Holy little tyrant. Still, we rise.
A wondrous bit of writing