Room
and winter has gone on for five long months,
in spite of being starved, starved almost to death
for greenness and warmth, flowers and birds,
in spite of the deadness of endless classrooms,
shopping centres, television shows,
in spite of the pains in the gut, the migraines,
the wakings, the palpitations,
in spite of a guilty knowledge of laziness,
of failure to meet some obligations,
in spite of all these things, and more,
I have to report that the moon tonight
is filling the house with a wild blueness,
my children grow, excel, are healthy,
my wife is gentle, there are friends,
and once in a while a poem will come.
In spite of the fact that it's twenty below,
tonight I smile. Summer bursts inside me.
No comments:
Post a Comment