Forgive the little poem that follows. I have two itches lately: one is to just write and let it be, find a playfulness and see what happens. As I did in the poem, “That Old Devil Moon.” The other is to not create more pain, but try to create maybe a little bit of pleasure. When I was an ESOL tutor for the first and second grades, we had a lot of fun with rhyming words. This poem is dedicated to those children.
Going Forward
Whisper steps
like wind
Willow, willow
soft.
December waits
in the wings
A girl of winter
moth.
Blue, blue
she brings
A new silver
cloth.
Old woman
climbing, climbing
Circles of stone spirals
aloft.
I hope in the future to share two poems whose subjects are difficult and painful. As I said, a lot of the time my aesthetic is to deliberately honor the beautiful, the mysterious, the wonder that is our world and ourselves, but, as you know, to always write from this perspective is not always possible. In the meantime I am wishing you all the best during this beautiful holiday season!
