Finite (Happy National Poetry Month!)

Finite

By Hannah Six

I promised   

a heron

 slate-feathered   

   bare-limb balanced 

who tilted his head   

and  an interlude

of                         ice petals

stuttering and              livid  

singing       with envy 

         and other longings 

these years — pale tides   

swift and teeming  

— or hollow 

as a distant train 

scoring the still surface 

of 3 a.m.   waking

you asked  ordinary 

things   I promised 

to tell   some  

and you taught 

patience  and I hoped 

you would 

be so   

yet   supine   peering 

into snowfall   

testing 

each crystal blessing 

remember

how you dreamt 

you had grown old  

thin  days 

imprecicely numbered 

(c) 2022, by Hannah Six

Reveling

Today feels like the day after Christmas. Gifts received (oh, that inauguration!), poetry project complete — and a few extra hours added back into my evenings!

Good stuff this week. But, like all transitions, it can leave us feeling a tad lopsided, a little “at odds” with our changing world. Good stress is still stress, after all.

After putting out a poem a day for 1,462 days straight (of varying quality to be sure, but I always gave it all I had on any given day), my creative spirit needs some R&R. Time to refill the well. 

This is absolutely a first-world problem, and I am SO THANKFUL for the reason why I am able take this break. But endings...you know? They always feel kinda sucky. 

So, I’ve decided this is NOT an ending, though I have no idea yet what the next steps will look like. (A book, perhaps? Maybe some knitting content? And regular poetry posts, too...)

Meanwhile I’m trying to be gentle with myself and allow time to process the end of a project that meant — and gave — so much to me.  

And, of course, reveling in the luxury of hope, which has been sadly missing for a while, now. Care to join me? 💖

And all is well (Day 1462)

we filled the streets 

and all is well  

we remain divided 

and united 

in hope   we came     

together   to start 

afresh   this world   

our one good thing   

which may lead 

to another   gazing

now   at each other  

uncertain   knowing 

we must not stay 

where we have been

listening for the bells   

and weeping

tears of joy   of dread 

understanding neither

what our neighbors 

feel   nor what they say

how can we   when we 

are numb    numb 

and smiling    smiling 

foolishly at one another

no words for what 

we have yet to experience 

shedding our fear   

restoring   healing   

we purify ourselves 

in possibility   then 

quietly cloak our joy 

in dignity   preparing 

again   to stand

in the name of justice 

denied 

too many   too long

  

prepared to struggle 

and sigh   protest and pray   

to retreat into apathy   

sicken and fall 

away from the fray  

becoming

when we surrender 

our ferocity   

unconquerable 

and we must not fail   

and we must love   

and may it be ours

how could bitterness 

survive 

a glimpse 

of such tenderness

and just like that   

we are awake 

a four-year nightmare 

over   still   too real

© 2021 by Hannah Six

Dissolving (Day 1461)

truth and justice demanded

voice again   again   starved 

for a language of our own   

we   nevertheless   offered all 

we had   frozen with fear   

no means to measure this 

sweet-bitter story   these 

languid   shattered years   

dissolving   in despair   in joy   

the world we knew   

a single thread of pale sand   

rippling   glistening   end to end   

on which we   trying 

to chart a new way home   

imagine forgotten tapestries   

and trace unwritten poems

   

© 2021 by Hannah Six

More/less (Day 1460; Pandemic series #12)

1 year + 2 million deaths 

later   more/less   this 

new  unchanged world

< maskless   but too 

many   culling their own 

herd   some muttered   

& invisible tides of all 

we lost ebbed & surged      

subtle   toxic   we grew 

resigned to altered aisles   

recently   furtively

rearranged to conceal 

steel shelves stocked w/

lack  & ugly plastic 

bottles promising protection  

we certainly needed it

after the unthinkable   

undoable   unspeakable   

which had been said 

& done for 1,462 days

more/less

1 year + 2 million deaths 

later   a blue spark flickered 

curiously   could it be   

& wondering   itself 

a miracle   redemption or 

reprieve   deserved   after all   

had we not   at last  

succeeded in excising 1 

singularly pernicious affliction

(c) 2021 by Hannah Six

Haiku for Day 1159

vanishing sunset

glimpsed in a rear-view mirror

so fragile is hope

© 2021 by Hannah Six

Uncertain (Day 1458)

day turns to rain

as you walk home   hair 

tight against your skull  

a plastic scarf and

several coats of spray

it will last   you 

do not   uncertain 

in your ivory   pearl-adorned 

protect yourself 

as well    you do not 

know how it will crack 

when you remove the tie 

binding the end   

silver drizzle of a promise   

fragile lace 

that feels like home   

unyielding 

as a perfect golden ring   

© 2021 by Hannah Six