I have decided to post a poem each week that will relate to the theme of said week, or perhaps simply the state of my mood at the time. I wanted to have something 'constant' on my blog, because most of it will just be thoughts that pop in to my head at odd times, or commentary on events that occur in either my private life and the public sphere. I thought that this could offer some stability while still remaining quite flexible.
Without further ado, this week's poem is Burning the Old Year by Naomi Shihab Nye. Since we are still in the first few days of the 2013 I think that it is appropriate. I think she does a fantastic job of capturing the phenomenon of time passing by. Enjoy!
Burning the Old Year
Letters swallow themselves in seconds.
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.
So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.
Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
I begin again with the smallest numbers.
Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things I didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.
- H
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