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

Bound and blinded (Day 1457)

Even now   bound and blinded 

as we are   now   tired as we are  

even now   dark-winged demands  

and duty   too   backlit against the sky  

cry harshly for their share   and now

I see you   flushed as apricots  

furtive as a fox   crossing a paved road

in full autumn sun   turning 

at my call   was that surprise 

or dread   each in their measure   even

now   silence begs reply   though

you cannot   how duty and demands

cleave and divide   so grim  your smile

for such a gentle child   

others may long to fight  to prove   

to act   but have no script save history  

and we will not make war upon 

those lonesome ghosts   whose shadows 

dim our woods   rivers   and fields   

yet   have we not been   

these past four years (and more)  

surviving   just   this enmity  this dread   

wings beating   backlit against 

a pure white sky   we blink   you vanish 

once   now   and for all   bound 

and blinded   in your own way   alone   

© 2021 by Hannah Six

Have you noticed (Day 1456)

how   each day    

the sun rises 

earlier & sets 

later than it did 

at the same time

four years ago

(c) 2021 by Hannah Six

Haiku for Day 1455

Even now, they brood 

Among their twigs and feathers

Upon a failed egg

(c) 2021 by Hannah Six

Pamplemousse (Day 1454)

sprawled on moon-soaked 

unbuttoning your frown   

I tear you open  midriff prickling 

against a vernal chill   sweet 

hiss of longing bubbling 

toward treetops just tall enough 

to shade the promised blue 

so bitter are your words   bitter

as the grapefruit you peel 

and slice   my tongue’s tip   

sketching each taut membrane   

testing the tart pink flesh  

we ingest worlds and worlds   

until   sated   we spit   

pale seeds a constellation 

against regret-stained ground   

© 2021 by Hannah Six

Rock salt sky (Day 1453)

we are not the elders of our past   

nor the translucent children 

of our tenuous future  

eyeing the rock salt sky   attending 

to the ceaseless hum of duty 

the pervasive chill of isolation   

bearing our invitation   arms   

clutching questions   more than 

can be comfortably carried 

to those ancestors   so familiar   

so alien   whose savagery 

is exceeded only by our own   

whose surprise we cherish   

whose flat gray disdain 

we are incapable of imagining 

© 2021 by Hannah Six

Pig roast (Day 1452)

After the scores were tallied 

they dug deep into a glowing pit 

and exhumed a crackling pig

dissociated from the horrors 

of refined cuisine   the politest

among us averted their eyes

pretending indifference   guests

began to queue   plates in hand  

admiring   laughing   salivating  

each harboring a secret fascination 

with the crisp brown skin

the succulent twist of tail

though it was understood that

the choicest cuts were reserved

for those who paid most

ate least   and departed early

(c) 2021 by Hannah Six

For a friend, already lost (Day 1451)

when you slipped

a feather   a wish

from between the pages

with love   hoping 

for a long catch-up chat 

sometime soon

17 years ago   & longer

patient   ordinary

your upturned face 

delighting in the kindness

of falling snow   the fragility 

of a human heart   

glowed   a garden written 

in smiles   & only tears 

could have dimmed this

powerful light   & I 

want to tell you how no one 

ever has   told me   that   

not since the first   

the only   time   we met 

© 2021 by Hannah Six

It is not (Day 1450)

hiss: It is not   It is not

in shadow-cluttered corners

Suspicions   creeping about  

believe our nightmare is over?

After all   how can we

© 2021, by Hannah Six

Unspeakable (Day 1449)

the day after 

betrayal is always 

hardest to bear

unspeakable 

evidence  swept 

into a tidy mound

disbelief evolves 

into something

abhorrent: 

belief

(c) 2021 by Hannah Six

Those (Day 1448)

Barely breathing 

now  but breathing 

the corrupt air

of aftermath   

hearing voices 

of those 

allowed  to walk 

away   

allowed to

walk  away  

trailing ruination

into ordinary  

the merest trace

of massacre 

perfuming

their soft white skin

© 2020 by Hannah Six

Fortress (Day 1447)

a moth courts 

power’s fragrant flame  

hurling himself against 

a fortress of smoke   

determined to burn

one way or another 

 

in silhouette  the future 

quivers and resolves

(c) 2021 by Hannah Six

All she had (Day 1446)

Took a lazy old possum-roll 

    away from summer

We lay in the tall grass 

    trying not to make a sound

Winter arrived quickly 

    as a bright blue sled 

Despicable as that disgusting skin 

    that forms on hot chocolate 

    if you let it sit too long

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All she had was a two-tone Olds 

    and a can of lemonade

Why the neighbors’ laughter 

    was always so annoying

Pushed me up over the fence 

    but my coat was caught

Cold as cardinals on a dumpster

    in February

And the officer shone his flashlight 

    through the driver’s side window

(c) 2020 by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay 

Eight days (Day 1445)

How many stories 

you could have told

eight days after 

they vanish because 

you believe yourself 

he left   she awoke &

powerless to open 

your doors & windows  

began painting pears

(c) 2020 by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Without a net (Day 1444)

the end result 

being fruitless

days spent chasing

butterflies 

through curtains 

of dense gray fog

© 2021 by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Endings & (Day 1443)

An ending is more 

than a beginning

That was when we met

for the second time

turned backward.

Both may spring 

& you bequeathed to me 

your bewilderment

from the middle  

but endings seldom 

before disappearing 

into cascading decades. 

end there.

You were my beginning.

© 2021 by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay