New Year’s Day

Andrew North Shore New Year's Day

Photo by Christine Trainor

You sea! I resign myself to you also….I guess what you mean
Walt Whitman, from Song of Myself

A single black crow glides slowly over the snow-covered dunes
The sun for all its brilliance has lost all power to warm
The wind churns the white ice in the impossibly blue waters
A wind so cold it cramps our hands in the time it takes for us to pose
For pictures against this deeply indifferent landscape
So uncaring we often mistake it for hostile
For we have come here together for over thirty years
To talk and laugh and cry and marvel
Ultimately, to fall silent amid its beauty
And yet, for all this, it has yet to give a single sign
That it knows we are here or ever were
It cannot even bother to gloat
That its rocks and sands and waters and ice and snow and winds
Will continue to grind together for eons after we are gone
And although it would never take the time to teaches us
I have nonetheless learned from all our talks and walks in it
That love is no more meant to be requited than life is meant to last
Love like life itself is meant to be lived and experienced
And shared when it may
And always lost
As singular as a black crow flying low over snow-covered dunes
As common as the wind that freezes the water of our blood
Which is nothing more or less than the tears of the sea

(for Christine Trainor)

To read Songs about Sex, Death & Cicadas by Andrew Grimes Griffin, just click on the link. To download a pdf, right click on the link and select “Save link as…”


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