I'm not much of a poetry writer, but I like it.  And I like the people that come together over it.  Just over a week ago, I had the opportunity to go to a poetry reading in Minneapolis and it just so happened to be curated by the Poet Laureate of Minnesota.  I later found a collaborative work of hers in the vault of the Special Collections department at the Central Branch of the Hennepin County Public Library.  Hand made paper and letterpress printing, it was in all senses of the idea a work of art.

Nothing I write much compares, but it is nonetheless fun to play with words and form in a way that prose doesn't have the flexibility for.  So here I'll share the little idea I had as I walked from my temporary work to my temporary home through a short-lived and amusing flurry more beautiful than I had seen in a while.  But with this I would like to declare that while I love winter, I am ready for it to be warm again.  Warm and free of coats.



There is a world where the quiet
Hush






Is loud and rushing
It falls briskly
Battered north and south
Left and right
While a boy stands watching
At the corner of
Here and there.



He stands, watches
There is no globe to keep him
But the wind deceives
Mimicking a curious hand
Shaking the rushing quiet
Until it sends the world spinning
Flake by flake.



But leaves no trace
The warm ground drinks hungrily
And takes in the quiet
Drop
Drop
Drop