It
seems like a good day to resurrect a poem
that appeared in a slightly different form in my 2004 collection We
Build Temples in the Heart published by Beacon Press, Boston.
The
poem came to me early one morning on my daily
walk from the Metra train station
in Cary, Illinois to Briargate
Elementary School where I was the Head
Custodian. After I opened the building and classrooms
and hoisted the Flag outside, I grabbed a cup of bad coffee in the Teachers’
Lounge and set down to scribble
a first draft.
Mid-November Dawn
The time has come,
I know, I
know.
The soft frosts that fade
at the
first blush of light
are over.
The grass
snaps now
with each
step,
the cold
seeps around
the buttons
of my coat,
up my
sleeves,
down my
neck.
Of a sudden the leaves,
just
yesterday the glory
of the
season,
are shed in
heaps and drifts.
The bare
arms that held them
Shiver in
the dawn.
Long clouds of starlings
swirl and
trail across
the
lowering sky,
crows
clamor over
carrion
earth.
The time has come,
I know, I
know.
But just when the wail of grief
wells in my
throat,
the keening
for utter loss
that crowds
my senses
and my
soul—
a simple doe ambles unconcerned
across the scurrying road
into a remnant patch of wood,
somewhere just out of sight
the half-maddened buck
thrashes in the brambles.
The time has come,
I know, I
know.
My blood quickens in the cold,
death falls
away.
--Patrick Murfin
I have copies of We Build Temples in the Heart still available and will send you or your loved ones a personally inscribed copy for the low, low price of $8. I’ll even pay the postage! They make great stocking stuffers for your literate friends. Or you can piss off your children by using it instead of a lump of coal—they will be just as disappointed and angry!
Message me privately on Facebook or e-mail pmurfin@sbcglobal.net and we can exchange postal addresses so you can send me a check and I can send you a book.
Such a deal!
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