There’s a buzzing in my ears.
All night it has driven me mad,
even now when spring spreads
her green glories all around.
More and more, birds break
the silence of afternoon.
A world away, an old friend
has fallen, fractured her hip.
Two of my son’s high school
friends died suddenly this week.
So far, our luck has held —
wholesome food on our table,
strong new roof over our heads.
Every day we wake up
a little closer to the darkness.
My throat is stuck as if I breathed in
an ocean wave or swallowed the crescent moon.
Steve Klepetar lives in the Berkshires in Massachusetts. His work has appeared widely and has received several nominations for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize.
Wow! Love this poem. I think this poem speaks on the human condition, and why we are prone to knock on wood, throw salt, or whisper unspeakable things to each other such as "He has cancer," "Her suicide," or a death of a small child. Grief seems to take turns.
ReplyDelete