let's talk about crossing
seas; let’s talk about lost
fire; let’s talk about smoke in the eyes—blink
to get it out; let’s talk about ones we knew,
fallen under wind and rain, wanderers
who endure pain
no longer; don’t shut
up yet; let’s talk about short
days, not the ones in summer;
let’s return to warm blankets of snow and stiff
cups of joe; I need a break
from August blackberry brambles, scavenged
by every bird;
let’s pause—
let winter
keep us.
When we talked to Mike about this poem, and other poems found on his blog, he said: "there's a lot of [bad poetry] on there." We like to think there's good stuff too, like this poem. We loved the T.S. Eliot-esque appreciation of the moment, the strong, simple image, "smoke in the eyes / blink to get it out", and the clever enjambments that push the poem along.
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