The Poetry Of..
Harold Lorin.......................................................
Calypso
She is tending and attending
Cutting back on where she cuts her hair
Holding my hand in her own small hand
Listening to plaints and whimpers
Holding me above the waters.
Inviting half the world for dinner
Treating restaurant meals as special treats
Walking in the rain to find uncostly gifts
For those to whom she feels an obligation
To show another form of love.
I said from the beginning she has elvin ears
And now her elvin nature also shows
Combined with her small hands is her large heart
There will be no spaces now between us
Not even my closet is off bounds
She has won all rights and places
Around and in my heart
Advent
Now is the end of Ordinary Time
Now start the holy Counted Days
The colors of the pastors turn to purple
And candles of hope are lit
Before the chancel
White stars white doves white angels
Now hang upon the children's tree
Below the listing of the hymns
The boughs of evergreen hang along the pews.
The Pastor says the End is the Beginning.
Does the Apocalypse lurk behind
This joy of expectation?
Will soon more burn than candles?
Will stars and doves and angels turn to ashen black?
What is the answer to Yeat's slouching shadow?
Oh Holy moment Will the Spirit Come
As we sing carols? Or will we just go on
As if we were in Ordinary Time?
Winter
For four days there was nothing not white
Up to the road and down to the pond.
The resting snow lay silent on our hill
Covering and cloistering whatever
Once had signified the world.
For four days inside we rubbed down wood
And washed down walls.
Looking out on what we thought had been
The yew, the spruce, the heather.
We wondered if the snow was permanent.
If it had shrouded time.
For four days there was music
Radio'd from some imagined place.
Mozart filtering through snow
Making the notion of beyond the pond
Seem witlessly, if not innocently, absurd
On the fifth day the rain came.
The bare barberry returned
The earth appeared and brought a memory of spring.
We heard a car pass up the road
And walked to where we saw its tracks.
Linking cold hands we let our eyes wander to
Where we guessed might be the world.
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