19 March 2011

vicissitude




i felt the snow before i saw it
in the spines of trees and little knees

thanksgiving’s warmth is confusing          (winter      inevitable)

     each arrived to search my memory of night-sky first snows 
                                      and finding a coat

clouds built in the north   over minor lakes
yellow tape
coffee cake

my mother sent   packages   slow moving fonts

 black    matted april            fragile 

      grieved loss          with care
warmth   light cost of share
                    bleak mind wear
my thirtieth night


solidarity 
was a blizzard

we for me
that autumn        i was twenty-three

university

           vagabond training               the nate archibald track

         no-flake snow flakes bending back

                         the earth light  moved   imperceptibly 
the city bus stopped for me    on a corner where buses didn’t run 

        time got added to everything                    

         


how did you answer
                  autumn and winter you   
mid-day proof



    winter white joy     severed    four and ninety-three
led to morning   bright 
    one example   is tonight

would it be for heaven’s cancer 
                                          or sunlight’s vivid right
weeks     demure
 
                             cold clock premature
time’s cacophony of art
                 
 melancholy 
                                                                         dressed

                                    every time
in scarf double socks and vulnerability

buttoned up

for thirty weeks 
wintered

february thought april

                     first light arrived

for me
a departure from grief  by the hand 
 of a thief
   

a life cycle lesson    the syracuse session
             more than an alibi

 the feathery weight 
kept things straight   
hate for hate      for hate             for hate

                                      clear skies  
scattered equivalent norms    awaitied  a storm    a whole to a form 

in syracuse  
    hearts were holocaust


                            we gained light in moving 
  long nights           you could hear
                              we just made the winter we breathed the cold air

which began the gaze skyward
equalled the light 

november twenty-third    the  wrongest of all nights


vicissitude |vəˈsisəˌt(y)oōd|

a change of circumstances or fortune, typically one that is unwelcome or unpleasant 





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