Vox Populi: A Public Sphere for Politics and Poetry
A bitter wind out of the north,
gulls frozen to their icy perches,
and a lone tug inching its way
across the bay. On the eastern horizon,
the great mountain in a robe
of new snow, the sky turquoise blue.
I have come far enough to know
the snows that bury dreams and wishes,
the blizzard in the soul that cries
for the warm embrace of love
in the harshest season. But the world
remains silent, but for moaning winds
and the faint drone of mindless traffic
in the distance. Who am I now,
old and weathered, almost worn out,
but still that hunger, that faint light burning?
I am a seeker, a wanderer in a world
I never imagined. A soul seeks itself
in a kindred soul, the need for a touch,
a knowing glance that makes the fire roar.
Smoke and ash and an old man’s
merciless hunger. May the gods
chew my gnarled bones when that time comes,
but in this soul there still is a story
waiting to be told, still a mystery
to unfold, still a spark in the tinder
Copyright 2016 Sam Hamill.
Sam Hamill is the author of over forty books of prose and poetry, including Habitation: Collected Poems.