What will you do? She asks. I will
continue north, carry the past in my arms, flying into winter.
– Jack Gilbert (“BRING IN THE GODS”)
Might we say
we leave the past on the page,
chapbooks bundled in our arms
heading north into the storm—
time-faded faces,
moments tagged
into poems.
We know their names
and cherish visions
with vibrant clarity
like a bell chiming
on a wind gusting
across the canyon
of time behind us.
Three score and ten
more, I am reluctant
to let go
of this life
in exchange
for something more
like fulfillment
everlasting.
drycrikjournal 