Cold cold moon you are stark and far,
yet I’ll lasso you with a rope
of fantasy and draw you close
to warm this day’s winter solstice.
Here, kiss the sun and twirl around
earth in the turning of the year,
then stand up in our circle of
frost-bit flora and fauna. Here.
Please take my hand. It is not death
I mourn, but life un-lived, and warmth
un-shared—little things easily
spread. You are impressed in my heart.
Hands that avoid pain and disease
will remember your touch. In the
bleakest times, we’ll find new ways to
see through what blinds and binds us.
Through the push-pull of churning life
memory meets its future guise
and explores it, eager to see
how our convictions mellow it.
Posted at
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2021 Susan L. Chast
"You are impressed in my heart." So lovely. I, too, am eager to see "how our convictions mellow" life ahead. It is always a pleasure to read you, my friend.
ReplyDeleteI love your poem and totally agree with you. We will find new ways through these times and we learn to mellow the angst of it all. Suzanne at Wordpress - Mapping Uncertainty
ReplyDeleteMidwinter cheer can seem forced, but the gentle pull here is into a dance that heals the hands that hold it. The nadir here is what chills our common marrow - "life un-lived, and warmth / un-shared—little things easily /spread." What turns is a freeing of sight to see through the chill of the time; a bleak midwinter, yes, but mellowing fine. Amen.
ReplyDelete'It is not death
ReplyDeleteI mourn, but life un-lived, and warmth
un-shared—'
So well said: the real tragedy lies in this!
Love this one!
ReplyDeleteLove this one!
ReplyDeleteNice work, just like all your work this year Susan, may 2022 just fly to the moon! Peace and joy at this turning of the year!
ReplyDelete