Mennonite Poetry Home | Leonard Neufeldt

 

 

North of the Assiniboine

The wheat fields' roll
and roll of dark afterlife
explaining the gold
gone

the air whiter, a change
cottoned like a gathering from sleep,
and inside the wind where you stopped
ribbons of first snow, small seizures
busy with their silence
of following each other
across the gravel road
like the eagerness in you alive
to what is on the other side

You fold and refold your map without looking,
and because you wait for the fibrillose tempo
and small feelings in your hands to ease,
the fields grow larger, a sudden
getting-clear-of, momentary greatness
of blue all the way to the horizon,
to a lone spruce black against
the margin's emptiness,
your readiness to . . .

Say them, words of winter,
like stammerings of first love
finding themselves —
so simple



©Leonard Neufeldt. Leaping Clear, No. 6 (Winter 2018).

 

 

   

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