Cues for Not Giving Up
when the sun suddenly pierces through the hemlock,
starts to paint each bark texture
and time is on fire—every raindrop ringing
diamond drops—and so many questions as we wring
out the old and hope for the new.
More than the sound of the brook,
who refuses to give up singing, more
than the mirror of the still water with a whisper
of ruffled light, more than the whimsy
of unplanned pine needles making eyes,
crosshatch of broken branch making teeth,
more than a bend of a bough in an arc
one end in snow, the other in ice, more than
icicle whiskers, it’s the happenstance
that strikes.
Sure you can match
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty
in this winter scene. Go ahead, assign
a tree to say Fine then, I’ll take it. But I'll
remember that chickadee with its half-inch
of feathers, flitting about and landing,
flexing its toes. It’s not the season
for mating, but just the sight reminds
me of what we’ll hear when it is.
- © Kitty Jospé 2022
Since 2004, Kitty Jospé turned her work as docent into explorations of ekphrastic poetry and pursued workshops and an MFA in Poetry (received 2009, from Pacific University, OR). Since Feb. 2008, she leads weekly sessions to help people be more attentive readers and increase appreciation of good poems. Her work appears in numerous journals, anthologies and six books. The latest from March 2021, Sum:1 from Foothills Publishing
1 comment:
Beautiful, Kitty! 🌷🥰👍
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