because while some truths lend themselves to equations, others are best described in verse

Unseasonable

it is just past Christmas,
and the air smells strangely like salt,
as if we were the sea, or had been
crying for days.
fog steams from the folds
and valleys of my father’s house; we
rake gravels back
into the drive—
the hard little memories
of snowploughs past—
tidying up edges, sweeping
aside leaf mould and the damp
with calloused hands.
isn’t this always
how it is at year’s end?
only
i am almost listening
for seagulls,
for the squawk
of some new thing
being born.

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9 responses

  1. smells strangely like salt,
    as if we were the sea, or had been
    crying for days.

    Good God ! You are a real poet of the nth degree !

    December 29, 2015 at 8:46 am

    • Wow. High praise indeed, Carl. Thank you, sir!

      December 29, 2015 at 8:54 am

      • And the title Unseasonable matches the salt which seasons us in life. Salt does stopping bleeding to a degree. Bleeding of the heart and soul ?

        December 29, 2015 at 8:57 am

  2. Loved this one. The gulls and the smell of the sea are evocative of so many things.

    December 29, 2015 at 12:48 pm

    • Thank you! Glad it found some resonance with you.

      January 4, 2016 at 10:20 am

  3. Happy New Year

    December 31, 2015 at 6:57 am

    • Thanks, Carl! Hope yours is off to a great start!

      January 4, 2016 at 10:19 am

  4. Babe, you flavor things with bittersweetness and no one does that better. Loved the aching hope here. Happy New Year! Love Mosk

    January 12, 2016 at 8:29 pm

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