Wednesday, December 26, 2012
I'm trying to remember this poem I wrote 27 years ago. It appeared in my highschool literary magazine in the fall of 1985. I can't find a copy of it anywhere. I've asked friends if they have copies: no luck. Here is all that I can remember of the poem.
THE HOLY SEASON
by Thomas D, 1985
Despite the weather
(the orange winds of fall
and green of April),
God's children safely stay:
protects [...] from the blizzard tides,
prevents the ark's timber from rotting
and keeps the just-born babies golden, asleep.
(blessed by the raindrop)
is the landscape[?]
but where is the saint or sage who can explain
the adolescent pair of sister suicides?
This question will echo long past the holy season
for the answer lies nowhere on this landscape.
The hilltop cross
sheds artificial light
each evening, despite.