Easy
How much easier
to write about the tamarack’s
golden flame
the last flicker of warmth
against purple winter’s
majesty
than to speak
of our own fading hopes
of immortality
to let the pen express visions
of V’s of geese
receding into falling night
than to talk with a lover
about
the approaching darkness
in which the warm V
of our desire
our desirability
heads south
easier to project
into metaphor of autumn
and winter
than to accept the coming
of no spring no summer
the trout lily’s bloom
the red robin’s return
not for us
easier to tell the world
of fortitude
than to tell family
of fear.
Tomorrow begins November
we shall wear brave masks
tonight.
- Ralph Murre 2004
How much easier
to write about the tamarack’s
golden flame
the last flicker of warmth
against purple winter’s
majesty
than to speak
of our own fading hopes
of immortality
to let the pen express visions
of V’s of geese
receding into falling night
than to talk with a lover
about
the approaching darkness
in which the warm V
of our desire
our desirability
heads south
easier to project
into metaphor of autumn
and winter
than to accept the coming
of no spring no summer
the trout lily’s bloom
the red robin’s return
not for us
easier to tell the world
of fortitude
than to tell family
of fear.
Tomorrow begins November
we shall wear brave masks
tonight.
- Ralph Murre 2004
this piece was written for Halloween,
and appears in my book, "Crude Red Boat"
1 comment:
A wonderful piece that speaks the truth.
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