Season of ice, this is my news

photo by  Christopher Martin   “The stag bells, winter snows, summer has gone Wind high and cold, the sun low, short its course The sea running high. Deep red the bracken; its shape is lost; The wild goose has raised its accustomed cry, Cold has seized the birds’ wings; Season of ice, this is myContinue reading “Season of ice, this is my news”

Not a single answer has been found

  First snow of the season here today; it’s early for Maryland. Here’s a lovely poem by Mary Oliver: First Snow The snow began here this morning and all day continued, its white rhetoric everywhere calling us back to why, how, whence such beauty and what the meaning; such an oracular fever! flowing past windows,Continue reading “Not a single answer has been found”

The Trees shall be reaching all winter

  Another November poem, this one by Robert Bly: “Solitude Late at Night in the Woods” I The body is like a November birch facing the full moon And reaching into the cold heavens. In these trees there is no ambition, no sodden body, no leaves, Nothing but bare trunks climbing like cold fire! IIContinue reading “The Trees shall be reaching all winter”

The world suddenly turns color

Laburnum trees in West Wales   Here’s a wonderful November poem by the great Sylvia Plath: “Letter in November” Love, the world Suddenly turns, turns color. The streetlight Splits through the rat’s-tail Pods of the laburnum at nine in the morning. It is the Arctic, This little black Circle, with its tawn silk grasses —Continue reading “The world suddenly turns color”

The Signatures on the Nests

Here’s a poem of mine from my first book, At the Year’s Elbow:   The Signatures on the Nests   When the trees bare themselves in November, the nests emerge. Clutch the crooks, crotches, wrists, elbows, between the fingers, tangle in the fine hairs of the topmost branches.   Vacated by their tenants, the nestsContinue reading “The Signatures on the Nests”

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