New Year on the Outskirts

New Year on the Outskirts

It’s an alien abundance
scrub brush green. More stick than leaf,
and other rolling outlines of the flesh 
of the Earth. That landscape 
where we sought 
beginnings around
the kitchen table and
lessons from the pond. We 
took a drill to the ice 
to see how deep
we run —

sea level legs,
a ring, a diadem,
a manor, a town, a carbine,
a war hero’s name, your name, 
and we find our swords to be short, but cutting,
a paring knife or something ceremonial:
gifts in spite of plenty,
dough, braided like a wreath,
standing as you take your seat,
tamales.

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A (late) Happy New Year to you all! I hope it was restful. This poem combines images from my last week or so. The core image is a family sitting around a table talking about ancestry and heirlooms. Also, we watched Gladiator 2 which is likely where the small swords bit came from and there’s a point where Paul Mescal shouts something like “Sword of wood or sword of iron, the point’s sharp just the same!”

While together, we also drilled the pond to see if it was frozen enough to ice skate. It reminded me of the ice drilling that occurs on the poles where scientists can measure the age of ice like tree rings and gather debris to share about what happened in a given year.

A time of reflection, and a time of looking backward to look forward!

Despite opening the year with a poem, my goal for this year is… more music! Hopefully I’ll be sharing more original songs and more songs that were inspirations this year. Let’s see :)

With Gratitude,