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No snow. A little fog. The afternoon
is a few short hours and evening falls.
But look how the sun hangs down
its old rope, good for one more pull.
.
Look at the latticework of leaves
in the stricken ash, golden in the gray,
like coins in a purse or notes from some old hymn.
I hope my friends are warm this day.
.
I hope the ones I love, will always love—
the one gone far away, the two sweet
souls holding hands near the end,
humming through a feverish night,
.
the ones whose needs I cannot guess
or have no needs this lucky day
on earth—I hope for them, for all of us,
a little peace, a touch of ease, another day
.
come round with steady light. So quiet now.
So still. A flake of snow, then two.
I hope you hear a bell from far away
begin to peal. This bell I pull for you.
Copyright 2022 David Baker.
David Baker’s many books include Whale Fall (Norton, 2022). He holds the Thomas B. Fordham Chair at Denison University, in Granville, Ohio, and is Poetry Editor of “The Kenyon Review.”
Fine poem. Glad you posted it.
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Just LOVE it! Happy Winter Solstice!
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Happy holiday, Rose Mary!
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Lovely. Simple, but powerful
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Thanks, Sabine! Happy holiday!
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Ringing through the chill (for San Diego) early morning as guests, returning home to Kansas, have left and I’ve turned off the lights and returned to the cool sheets and will turn over and sleep with this poem and the dog. Thank you.
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Thank YOU, Barb, for all your generous and sincere comments on the poems and articles in VP over the last year.
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Vox Populi has become one of those daily pleasures that keep me going. Thank you.
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