LEAVING TIME
James M. Truxell
May 3, 1996
Up to our waists in leavings
We are.
Scratching the turf down to the soil
With tines of sad and angry passion,
We gather about ourselves
Brittle, spent reminders of a blooming
Once new and nourishing.
As the year descends into its long
Goodnight,
We wonder at this time of leaving.
Up to our waists in snow
We are.
Shoveling the flakes, searching for familiar pathways
With muscles grown weary of heavy repetition,
We gather about our separate fires
Remembering a time of easier connections,
Of warmth and joy.
As the cycles of freeze and melt
Wear on
We wonder at this time of heaving.
Up to our waists in grass
We are
(Or soon will be.)
Spreading nourishment back and forth across the land
With limbs reaching for a further, warmer light
Again we gather with each other
Exchanging rumors of Resurrection's truth.
As sunlit days quicken toward this summer's
Soulstice,
The wonder is: we're leaving!
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