WENDY STERN - POEMS
November
November.
It is
Six months later
And our raindrop returns,
On a
Different
Branch this time,
On a willow leaf,
Resting, balanced
In the deep vee
Of the leaf’s centre,
Poised at a daring,
If not dangerous, angle,
As if
About to
Roll and fall,
Roll and fall.
And yet
It does not do so,
But rather remains, steadfast,
Resolute,
Seemingly immovable.
Once again
It is magnificent,
Once again a glow,
As it captures
The sharp, more penetrating light
Of winter
And holds it to itself
In a single and acute
Point of light.
And sending it out
From itself to the world
And, unless I am mistaken,
It is aimed accurately
And most decidedly at me,
A fierce thread of connection,
Impossible to miss,
Transfixing to the eye,
Breathtakingly dramatic.
No gentle breeze surrounds, this time,
No shimmering blossom;
Everything held
By a frozen stillness.