Since the response to my last two original poems has been so positive, I thought I’d publish a little more. I wrote this piece a few years ago.
To the Romanian
I am opening a window in my mind again.
I am peering into the sodden landscape
Of stone, snow, and parted lips of lead,
The chalice which catches the wax
Imported from Carinthia—like the
Ring that snags on the
Crow’s ashen teeth.
The shudders are snapping in the wind;
Smoke is rising from the valley.