February Song Poem by Ernest Hilbert

February Song



The brash knell of an angry bell choir, clangs
Of a belfry at the height of a hurricane,
Or just a trolley pronouncing its next stop—
She works to fix a worn-out wind chime, hangs
It by a finger so it tolls a haphazard refrain,
All gongs and happy ringing, then lets it drop,
Its song abruptly cut off with a clatter.
It makes me wonder what remaining detours
We have before the end. I do not know
Much, or understand the things that matter,
But this dawn I want to learn. Out-of-doors
A thin rain fastens banks of last night's snow
With ice, sealing soft powder into steel
Casings, freezing a million shapes to one,
Like the memories that make us, and I
Am failing too, like the light that already feels
As if it's fading before the small sun
We can't see has even climbed the sky.

Monday, February 26, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: winter
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