Annus

Last time, you came calling

as a glaze-eyed lady to the grassland,

dragging  past its Doric columns

of cacti. Their wrens molting prayer.

You were the pre-cursor of shock

and shadows cast by places and strangers

you feared for us to know.

 

You wept at the launch of  seasons

when dirt sifted through your fingers

and water flowed elsewhere, rain

pumped through a muscle of mud,

the eastern veins of river or stream.

 

This time,  you come calling

as a wide-eyed girl through the wilderness

holding your hand open

to whatever wind or bird swoops in.

 

You could know everything

but have chosen nothing Your vocals unstrung -

left out of tune, hoping silence will invite

kinder possibilities to come.

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Note -- Each year  is unique and different for the individual that experiences all of its seasons and personal events. It may  be defined, in retrospect, by newscasters and pundits on a national /global level ; but the real impact is how it affected the singular soul and person. So this poem personifies the year, "Annus" ,correlating how she entered the high desert last time (in January) with how she enters it this time.  This poem's imagery was also partially inspired by Bob Dylan's Song, "Sad-eyed  Lady Of The Lowlands".