“Icy Drafts”

“Icy Drafts”

Icy drafts from winter’s future reach me; late night candles
Blaze along with altogether nothing in particular,
Nothing brilliant but levelled in the vernacular
With only some slight punctuation. No need to handle
The hour nor spend the day. No one, no thing,
No wizened breadth disturbs the dusts in me
When even Shakespeare smiles to see
No dream from which to wake for his sake. No,  no ring
Of fire, no need for patience in delivery. Devotion
I leave to the cricket soon sacrificed to the owl; suspicion
To the critic.  Applause I’ll pass and all his opinions
To the fool.  Settle the mountain with the ocean
To the bottom of the glass, but I think wisely to leave the bottle
On the table. No endless highway here, no hand on the throttle.

Painting at top by Suzy Schultz;

at bottom by Darren Maurer

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