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News of: Codicils

Too many things

one must know -- so many --

a place on the breath for each? each passing?
(its turning -- breath's inmost
turning, my Love --

for delight -- )

*
And another

'massacre of the innocents.'

And that there is a form
even for that.

*

Breath as

tidal -- ardor... fervor... horror... as moon --

*

What comfort?

*

There was a moment

of blessing, calm.
Though it was a pause, a hiatus.

*

'... then what felt like a whirlwind

had risen up
in me, such that

little was spared.'

*

News of

the unbearable, happening.

Breath saying Now, now.

poem by Carol Snow
Added by Poetry Lover
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