Blue river, icy sunk
where something but nobody fell

Now theology is necessary
for the way there are these holes & questions

Père Noël, whose presents like questions
come from the mind:
Let me be helpless & hopeless this coming year

let me know God and not feel fear

Winter tones are rose & glass
the sun as false as all nostalgias
If this world isn’t good enough for us
then an afterlife won’t be enough

***
Dry is the word for a life of solitude
But a flood would be like a two-faced friend

one thing in a virgin forest, another in a garden
bed

As the moon is an alien rock
one who has attended history intact

is only an ornament

–Fanny Howe, from “Lines Out to Silence”

I’ve been a fan of Fanny and of her poetry for a long time. Just recently I realized I have never posted any of her work here, so this is long overdue.

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