IN EQUINOXThe idea was change, orat least rearrange our livesto fit inevitable weather—We bought fruitcamouflaged by bruise,froze stews, thought we could make dowith what was left of preserves.The idea was clemency, prepare,avoid our tendenciesto move too quickly, to pick pearsthat could stand to soften.We stashed all we couldof birch sleeves, bagged leaves,figuring we could always burnour britches, our ancestral tweeds.The idea was to make it new,at least attempt to make it througha season we both knew betterthan to bear.
From Hypotheticals (2011) by Leigh Kotsilidis.
4 comments:
Poem as Martha Stewart Living.
Other than: "to pick pears that could stand to soften," there's not much new here, but that's no surprise.
If you're going to tough talk other people's poems you can at least do without the cowardice of anonymity.
This is a lovely poem, mellifluous and weirdly wrenching. I haven't read Kotsilidis's book yet (though her poetry has drawn my attention several times before), but this piece ensures I'll read it soon. Thanks.
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