Else

from "As We Wait" (Andrea Modica)

                                                            Each other

                                                            Is all we ever have

                                                            And too much to expect

                                                            Love and death

                                                            Love and death

                                                            What else?

                                                            The snowflake

                                                            The sunlight

                                                            The music

                                                            Make do

                                                            6-7

December Ever Since

jo'b

        

Awakened by the wind,

louder than the music

that keeps the dreams away,

another clipper moving in

just as I had made my peace

with the bare places again,

the nothing that is not there

and the nothing that is.

—with lines from Wallace Stevens' The Snowman

Solidago Artifex

jo'b

Closer to the ground

with each cold night

moving slowly

through the ruins

the falling bones

where we had sighed

and squinted at the sun

looking up through goldenrod

waiting for our miracle to come

Spiral

jo'b

We need each other               

in the expanding night               

the soundless flight               

of the owl               

and the flame               

the parade of the dead               

catch my hand as we pass               

perne in a gyre                              

unafraid               

               

at the end               

to call it love               

December Moon

jo'b

Moon of the long arc          

Teach us the strength of silence          

Certain and tidal          

A Winter Heart

Click to enlarge.                              jo'b

I would speak my drifting heart,

But something's in the way,

A caution in the spinning wind,

Something's in the way,

December's moon, its long, high arc,

Something tidal in its wake,

Reticence my saving grace,

Yet something's in the way.

Snow on the Pond

—jo'b

 

How quiet when the wind dies.

We stand at the pond watching

as a light snow falls and vanishes

into the sky at our feet.

You smile in silence

as if we already have a secret.

It's heartbreaking

that we don't.

Sacred Ground

Bones, nothing but bones,   

The hill is nothing but bones,   

Bones and wet ashes.   

 

Those Few

jo'b

Warm sun and cold wind

At the end of November

In the time of gathering,

Those few who know us best,

Those few who knew us then,

Those few who love us still,

Each with our own vague regret,

The warmth of those few

Blocking the wind.

Overcast, Untethered

jo'b

Fading light                                                    

Dissolving hills                                              

Edges ill-defined                                            

Yesterday                            

   Tomorrow                          

The imaginary present       

Touch me so I know you're real                    

If only for a moment