December

{I’ve spent this month of December writing a haiku every night (per @inandof‘s work and idea), and I think I may continue on through 2018 if I can. A resolution of daily making and remembering, celebrating and standing on my own feet as much as I can. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, friends. Jessie and I are so thankful for you, for all of us living our little lives, walking softly, measuring heaviness and lightness, regarding the moon and weather.}

1.
I said just what I meant,
then two eagles fighting, loud,
above as I left.

2.
Sewing flags on my
island of madness while I
go slowly insane

3.
Oh that you would rend
the heavens and come down, or
else what will I do?

4.
This morning, got so
mad that I threw an eggshell
at the floor, cracked more.

5.
O magnum myster-
ium. Danced in my kitchen,
I know every phrase.

6.
Maybe if we wait
it will happen without our
even trying much.

7.
lassitude: (noun) a
state of physical or men-
tal weariness. Me.

8.
Late night drive to Trig’s,
snowy, and I just want to
drive with you always

9.
What if snow was blue?
we wondered as we walked, im-
agining new worlds

10.
Where do the deer go
at night? Snowy nest? Cold earth?
Invisible house

with shutters and a
place to wipe their hooves before
coming on inside?

11.
I want just to break
open my alabaster
jar over God’s feet.

12.
I don’t know what to
write because I’m tired from
my crazy flag days.

13.
We sat on the bed
and talked a while because we
hadn’t talked all week.

14.
Leaving for Christmas,
pressed the “defrost” button in
fridge–anxious mistake.

In trying to make
something better, I maybe
made something worse–wet.

15.
Husband beside me
in childhood bedroom, and
maybe I’ve been moved.

16.
Being surrounded
by great clouds of witnesses
may be the best thing.

17.
Found an apartment
that I want to live in but
cannot live in yet.

18.
Talked about light and
dark in a room with other
artists, full of hope.

19.
When in your hometown
for Christmas break, avoid the
mall like it’s the plague.

20.1
My first biopsy
making me repeat again
“My God is faithful.”

20.2
The old familiar
sadness covers me up like
quilts I’ve made myself

20.3
But where are we now?
I couldn’t point to it on
a map if I tried.

21.1
Pennsylvania,
where I came from and where I
also am going.

21.2
Five dollar pizza
with the couple-friends we need
in Philadelphia.

22.
Sometimes the sadness
you can’t shake off sits on your
shoulder, heavy friend

23.
A light shines in the
darkness, and we are starting
to see through the clouds.

24.
Every Christmas
Eve of my life I’ve slept in
this room, feeling small.

25.1
All eternity
on the head of a pin, and
me, baffled, singing.

25.2
How silently, how
silently the wondrous gift
is giv’n forever.

 

 

Leave a Reply