Advent 1

Dumb as Oaks

It is wind that speaks,
not the branch, the leaves
now gone, silent unless
trampled. Cry out.

When the branch breaks
it is the ice that sounds
the crack. Its tiny fingers
cannot help but hold or fall.

Melt will be months coming,
a long hibernation, unslept,
beard grown to length,
urge quieted down to resolve.

What is it we wait for,
dumb as oaks, gone as the grass
beneath swayed hills of snowdrift?
Certainly, there is something in that light.

The slant the birds know means:
nearly there, just wait for the
winds to shift, the familiar call
of that place is home too:

That branch that won't break.

A January Notebook [2011]

1.4.2011

because it is winter & I’m tired:

the cold dark sky outside the window

of this moving vehicle

steals away all the light

& it seems that on the cold horizon

there is always a toothache

waiting to nestle in to a snug bed

1.10.2011

there is little that comforts

like waking to a white world

you did not expect but welcome.

a phone rings too early, waking,

& it’s not an emergency,

but the warning that says:

go ahead, stay home.

the little ones that remind you

that you are every age you’ve ever been

beg for the old fun that,

once a year, never gets too cold.

1.13.2011

the cold lingers as smoke

around citylight that bends

in hazy vertical bands.

there is a physics of cold

that will not suffer

the unprepared,

& those who know

know how to avoid it.

1.20.2011

the winter finches know

something I can’t figure.

somewhere the cardinal

waits for me to look for him.

that sparrow hawk,

the one that just headed east

across the embankment,

out of sight, is not out of mind.

there is so much of winter

that I don’t know what to do with,

but I am thankful for the companionship.

there is something about snow

& the company of birds

that takes some of the sting

out of winter’s slow days.*



*Note: I have to say that I always enjoy snow days. I like the snow; I love being home with my family. Today is a good day, and today is not one of those slow, winter days. But looking out the window at the snow, the birds (even though today is a great day) reminded me that winter always hurts--at some point it gets to be too much and we ache for spring. I'm not there yet, but these birds reminded me of the long, slow cold. Now, I am back to enjoying my day. Next order of business: Hot Wheels Criss Cross Crash!