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 Dec 2018 SK O'Sullivan
L B
The snow has a hand in it
as it gently covers all
the russet cheek of fall
With its myriad of hands

Snow opens up a place
among the covering leaves
Rests its palm
along the warmth of earth
sinks its fingers into heaves
and waits a moment

Winter is an expert
at November's need for lenient fondlings  
He remembers
edging for surrender
of a dying spring
His touches linger
as the earth quails at the gate
with shivering cries
she tries
to pull away

Cold desire overwhelms her
Cold insists
His swelling frosted fingers
force into the earth
in every way of water--
freezing crystals can desire
They imagine how to dilate
crevasse
to winter max

She tries not to--  
Heaves up her hills to block his way
He stops her  
with his white-fist wind
his frozen grip  
Depths so patiently insist
Such weight smothers all
With drifting swirling tongue
He fills her once-warm mouth
Settles into empty nest of limbs
and lets the wind drive him
ever deeper

into the need of winter
love
Regretfully consensual.  What else can we do with winter?
 Dec 2018 SK O'Sullivan
L B
Make No Promises; Take No Vows
Mean what you say
Say what you mean
Leave room
for the failing
for forgiving

The comp for compassion
goes a long way
or so they say--
'cross the heavens even
burning dross all the way

We are not what we were
nor what we seem
Leave room for the failing
for what we will be

Post-Paradisal
bush-whack of living
For what lies between

Let your yes be yes
and your no---no, and

Know

anything beyond that....

falls short...
or for sure will be
of the failing
The original concept of sin was anything short of perfection. and we have all fallen short.
 Dec 2018 SK O'Sullivan
L B
Was I ten?
I think?
Was it December?
that I became distracted
by the snow's
falling
silence?

The ******'s hills lure me
off
the curving path
toward home--
I surely know
my way--
though
path invisible
snow beyond my knees

Now
but for the patterns of the trees
that etch the skyline
I would be lost...
My love....
...were it not for those
I would be lost

My feet lift depths
Impassible
The snow
impossible--
could it be this deep?
could take this much?
should trudge so far?
beyond
my depth
my breath
a fog-- of
all
I own?

I am wading in the white
down-warmth
Sweat
in spite--
of freezing
of parental threat...
Wind brings tears
to reddened cheeks
Toes, long since numb
...and I am late-- as always

Wipe my nose on sleeve
Pull mittens with my teeth
fumbling
tissues damp in pocket deep

I have gone so far
too far
into the ******'s windings
with my mind

and night is falling
Night is watching
from the hemlocks
now behind
my purpose--
only
in
the gray of sky
the ghostly silence
of the moon rise

I don't know where night came from
How it got here
why I came
only that I want to linger--
longer
than that twinge of fear

Listen...to
soft tick
of snow
against itself

Wind in white pines
saddest of living things
begs a loan of winter winds
I had been reading Frost's "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" again, and I think I know just where he was.

Yup, in trouble.  Street lights definitely on.

******:  Irish, for a small narrow wooded valley with a brook, in other words--
the back woods behind my house.
 Dec 2018 SK O'Sullivan
L B
Before he returned from the fields
she must get there!
Harnessed Ole' Jerry to the buckboard
by herself
flung wildflowers mixed with iris, roses
tied with string
up on the rough-hewn seat

She was sweating, ill
and pregnant yet again
But some things always mattered more
than dinner at his hour, on the table
Sometimes in her frantic mind
she found the strength to curse him

Wiped her brow with sleeve
No bother for a hat
No time to tuck the loose hair to her bun

Hiked her skirt and hoisted sorrow
beside the wilted posies
Grabbing reins and slapping
Jerry's quarters with them soundly
she rumbled madly
out and up the hill

toward the cemetery
once a week
Her promises--
of always –  in his fear
she kept
An image from the homestead in Hatfield, Massachusetts, related by my Auntie Edna's telling of my father's mother,
Celina Arnel Rodier.  Never met her.
 Dec 2018 SK O'Sullivan
L B
“...But didn't your mother die too?
Back before we came?”
Some thoughts, Dad?
That day for you?
How was it?

Tell me how you woke in gray –  
dressed so uniformly in it
Tell me how you turned away
from all those helpless flowers on the ground
Came back empty to her kitchen
Still filled with the smells of her

Let me see her!  Hear her!
Once!
With any words –

besides the ones about the meat juice on her dress
The roast flung back
to splatter rage
upon the gentle curse
I see reflect
in my own image
across the table from him...

I want to know about the picture on your bureau
Do silent eyes still tuck you in?
She has a kind face that seems unending
I understand why things have gone unsaid

Do you know?
I have been wondering
Sneaking in your room
to pull her down from heaven?
To melt the years
of frosted glass between us?
to touch her face?
To look into her grayish eyes
pretending for a moment – she can really see me
To lay my head against her calico embrace?

Celina Arnell Rodier, 1872 – 1941  (Dad's Mom)
With all my grandparents gone before I was born.  I have only glimpses of them from photos and visits to their homesteads as a child. -- and, of course the stories passed along.
 Dec 2018 SK O'Sullivan
L B
About 3:00 AM, 

I wrote to someone here
on waking
from a dream
of waking-- into a death
of darkness and dread
A nuclear winter's night
without the hope
of light or heat again
We fumbled to be in each other's arms
beneath the quilt and blanket
to weave our warmth
for this last time
trying to comfort
Waiting for that moment
of knowing by the silence...
of the other’s breath
who would  truly be

alone
and the last….
_

In the dream, something had gone terribly wrong worldwide, with origins of the problem out-of-sight on the moon?  Dreams do not make the best of sense, but I’ve had variations of this one multiple times.  

Nuclear winter is the hypothesis that suggests the sun could be totally obscured for years by the ash of global nuclear war or debris from a massive volcanic eruption.  It could also be caused by an asteroid striking the earth. 
Those on the coast would be wiped out first.  Those inland would experience the poem above.



Consciousness of being utterly alone is the most horrifying state my soul can conjure, and I believe we were not meant to ever be that way.  We will always seek the other— the one whose image we bare.

“For now we see in a glass darkly-- but then face to face…I will know even as I am known.” —James

On waking, shaken, I reached for my phone, knowing someone, somewhere is always awake here on HP.  To the person who answered, thank you— though I know you did not really understand.  Your living presence was a comfort. I stayed awake till the sky turned first-light gray.
 Dec 2018 SK O'Sullivan
CK Baker
Covenant park central
parallel, east-side west
waiting on the print defender
(and Lichaten queen)
he appears randomly, and distorted
with a broken smile
shuffling down the Smithright trail
with his Mac Tack and cinnamon shades
(sun bags and thrift ware stacked neck high
on a rusted rat-trap)

An open end panel van crashes the curb
as the long-board dodges the tail
and kicks up some flare
the plumb tree and Sunbeam double wide
hold steady in the driver's fish eye
as the warehouse carny and "tire-less" 510
shine brilliantly...
in the dull, dripping scene
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