On the Second Day
On the second day
of the two-thousand-fourteenth year, the world turned,
two cities in Iraq, two boys in Elmhurst, burned:
others saved from ice–nice–though that same ice
was melting all too fast.
too often an occasion for more ash.
Still, we prise the phoenix:
still, we prize the phoenix;
still, we believe
Here are 55 grim words (excluding the cheating title, which is truly part of the poem) for the G-Man. (Galen–I know apologies are unnecessary, but I feel bound to say that I HAVE written cheerful poems of late, but none have been in 55 words.)
I refer in the poem to certain events in the news yesterday–bombings in Iraq and a terrible fire in Queens, as well as the saving of the scientists/tourists in Antarctica.
The first picture is self-explanatory–the second a lace of ice on a window. It is now about minus 6 on our thermometer, during the day, the temp got up to a high of about 1 or 2. Beautiful but a little scary to walk around in–if you worry about things like the ongoing integrity of your cheeks or nose or even throat. (I had not before realized how cold air can burn going down.) I feel very lucky to be able to have the mini-adventure of going out into this cold, and the great blessing of a warm place to come back to.Explore posts in the same categories: country life, poetry, Uncategorized comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.