That Time
There’s a time in life
when you don’t know what to do
or how you will go on.
The world is white
even through the dark
you think it is moon
but it is not moon.
It is snow
and a streetlight.
It is easy, now
to dream those halfway
chances at love
you did not take.
You are that old.
But still, through that loss
this early this late
nothing could have been
better or worse.
This is that time of life
when all things wait
to happen and somehow
you know they already have.
What I Know of Silence It is dark and cousins with headlights smudging the street passes through passes through some idea of time. There are people in dreams or in remembrance like bloodroot or a cup of skunk cabbage in late snow. As I age what I know shrinks to the imperceptible, but is completely grafted to sleep and the loose alliances of love or wishes. I wake in the morning too early. I open a book where I left it and then I sleep again and then I sleep again
The World According to Belle Isle Aquarium If happiness can be measured in fins and gills and luminous stirrings under the lime shine of its Pewabic arches it can be measured here. These rarities, gar, sturgeon, sunfish, seahorse even the eel's electrification, are gauged outside the glass for all us children to swim in; our glee and fear and awe everything that wavers everything that scoots and stares out from those cages of mirrors where we stand out here in the loud arid land with its explosions and shootouts as close to the glass as we can
Three very lovely poems. The first, especially, spoke to me.
What a nice lunchtime treat these three were for me.