May 08

In the Winter of This Climate (Wunderlich)

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In the Winter of This Climate, by Mark Wunderlich (1968-)

When I dream it is of sheep

tangled in the marsh, their calls

growing faint and the light failing


or winter’s handful of piano notes

against the highway’s salt hiss.

Nothing stays at home forever.


This is the house I go back to,

long since torn down

and your footsteps walking the same five rooms


the day the men were frozen in their boats

when the weather changed

and a storm blew in from the east.


There is the sky filling with the same dim stars,

the night birds fanning in the tree’s icy ribs

and you knee-deep in the river’s motion


hand cupped to your head

an upturned hand filling with rapid blood

your voice loose of its short tether, saying


Do you hear it? ┬áDo you hear what I’m trying to say?

Words That Burn