Indispensable Season

poetry

Nov 30

Written By

Indispensable Season

Summer ones live to be seen,

pluck and do-da and who does not

love them—all charge, splendor, hue?

But winter ones live for the under

sides, roots gnarled, long as bloodlines, fettered

to books and burials; faces not seen on

TV, but sifting media and message, tech

and Technicolor, turned to wiser winds,

more ancient of days.

Winter ones keep time that has

been spent, set things right;

in quiet, they hear. This culture,

eternal summer not deep December, needs

winter ones, invisible ones, untethered to eye

and ear, ratings-exempt and unelectable, true as weed roots,

never wasting away.

Attending Yoga at Winter Solstice