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Winter
Winter comes
with A Winter’s Tale
of all that has gone before.
Ulysses toasts his feet before an Ithacan fire
dreaming of Ilium.
Letting go.
Letting go gain and loss.
A winter’s tale –
words upon a page,
ripples upon a mind
like ripples upon a sea.
The wind drops
sea becomes calm.
Where are the ripples then?
Mind lets go.
Where is Ilium?
Où sont les neiges d’antan?
Did anything happen?
Does anything happen?
Où sont les neiges d’antan?
In this flat calm of total peace
can anything exist?
poem
by
Brian Taylor
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