Sam Hamill: Approaching Winter Solstice

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

of unknowing.

.

Copyright 2016 Sam Hamill.

Sam Hamill is the author of over forty books of prose and poetry, including Habitation: Collected Poems.