No Beauty

 
Once I looked at the fringe of bare winter branches
against the sky’s horizon, and thought
          Nature’s lace, so beautiful

It is still beautiful
          but cold, so cold

Blue sky, cool like the season
black branches, dead without their leaves
          The composition is distant, with no anchorage for my heart

Such abstract beauty beguiled me, when I was
warm, happy
          Anchored

Now I drift in a world strange to me
          the safe harbor is no more

With all havens closed, none open, abstract beauties chill me
already too numb and aching with it
          Find me warmth

But there is no warmth in a world
grown harder and colder
          Barren

There is no succor, no consolation
          no beauty worth the name

 
 
In memory of my mother:
Beauty in the Close
Upwelling
Beacons Unreachable
Too Late
One Crossing
Grievous Loss

 

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4 thoughts on “No Beauty

  1. This is beautiful. The anchor image strikes the same chord as the underlying magic theory in your fiction. If I’m remembering it right, when the nodes are no longer anchored, bad things happen.

    • Thanks, Alex. I’ve written poetry nearly all my life, but rarely shared it with anyone before now. Which means that words of praise are much appreciated.

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