1/22/2005

A Poem: first published in the Witness, 12/21/04


This Winter’s Discontent


This winter’s discontent
descends,
this year’s silent snow
gives no pleasure,
this year’s winter storm
no passion,

Clever too much by far
the butcher faintly sighs
as his cleaver cuts through
and down to the bone,



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1 comment:

  1. The poem as commentary cut deep and quick and healed me all in the same breath, considering I realized I was holding my breath as I sprinted through the first read. After a second read, I paused and listened for my breath and felt my thoughts spinning. Now upon reading it yet again, from the vantage of post-Tsunami, post- winter blizzard, post-reading the daily life stories of joys and tragedies in and out of the Church, I see even more and feel explicitly the layers, the depth and intricacies of this piece. The produce of the talented Harris never fails to conjure multiple images of substance and this is just another beginning of his tomorrow's work. I'm breathless, yet again.

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