Tuesday, January 4, 2022

POEM FOR THE FIRST WEEK OF JANUARY

Once in a while, 
we may restart
from zero

counting all 
the days 
we have lived through;

we can return 
to those moments
our hearts still remember—

all the whispered warnings 
whose words we 
didn't hear—

as if dusting 
the artifacts 
in a natural history museum.

We reexamine ancient wasps,
now trapped in chunks 
of golden amber,

but we do not appraise 
or fear their 
sheathed stingers;

now we simply 
lift them up,
polish them with interest,

and place them 
respectfully
back in their containers.