January 3

comments 10
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Someday we’ll look back,
I hope, and you won’t believe

how I used to sit and let
doubt and red wine

carve me out
from the inside

in measured small sips,
hardly maudlin,

just knowing how
how many laps

it takes to cross
the night.

Then I’ll say hope
is an albatross
,

and hope that
you’ll see not just

Dickinson and duality–
harbinger of good

omens, and doom–
but also the sea

stretching on
for weeks

under the sweep
of still wings.

Do you know
they mate for life?

This, after all,
is a conversation

of conjecture–
and knowing

the long long
odds on peace,

I hope at least
to outlast the need

for hope. That is,
a hope for we.

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10 Comments

  1. this is nicely woven together, like those huge ropes that used to hold ships to the quay, fraying on close inspection

    I’m only JUST NOW discovering Emily Dickinson – I got her Complete Works for Christmas and am starting from the beginning

    Like

    • Thank you– I’d like to try and rediscover Dickinson. So many words of hers come to mind after being memorized rote in school. Please let me know of any poems you find particularly striking!

      Like

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