spring nor'easter

By the wind and by candles,

By unexpected snow and branches

Cracking above our heads,

I find the bubble of quietness.

The day of waiting in thin-lit

Halls washes down the windows,

Memories of car tires swishing

Across the road and downed

Power-lines in the part of the city

Some people close their eyes through

Are a rich taste on my tongue

Quarter of a century poured out.

Still the still quiet after

Is very hard, not knowing

What to do with this big yearning

That reaches for the hand of the world,

Swirls my eyes green of the ocean

I feel so distant from. I am missing

Its comforting whisper in this storm.

We are just inside, creaking

Bones and floorboards struggling

To retain heat, looking out

at confused moonlight and wanting

very badly to lose this body

sometimes pleasant and sometimes

hurting wanting wanting

to dissolve like powder

in the great wind, find

my way back to a place

where the trees grow unrestricted

by concrete and water sings

its blessing into all the fruit

of the world—the houses,

the corner boys, the unused steel

and green things,

all my lovers,

and me.