publishing poetry only

Monday's Poem

© 2007 Heather Cardin


when winter is over
i will recall small agues,
swift passing patiences by the fireplace,
remember waits for celebration,
transitions, inconstant sorrows,
futures frozen immovable as grey.

when winter is over
a shift will occur. melt downs,
first bloom will offer
stamen and pistils.
our children will share
                 you will not change,
will breathe
as though yesterday were
only gleams away.

i will cry dirges
for old stories,
mutate in telling,
remind myself
to hold shadows.

light will come.
each shallow movement
a peristalsis east. this short day,
half-formed moon risen
over snowbanks will ride high
past silhouettes
                 of trees,
two birches twined across the way
like skin. after birth.
                           i will anticipate
silver yet to come. unwary angels
hover, will shower us with mercy
and with odes. i shall keep
bamboo good fortune, reach
arms around this lonesome air.

molecules will pass through space,
messengers of Rumi's madness.
i shall become a dervish,
vibrate the heavy dance of
not yet bare but showing signs of wear.

         i shall kindle fire, watch embers glow
until the melt.

Heather continues to write, publish, teach and learn in the Ottawa Valley.Through her kitchen window she watches the seasons change over the Gatineau hills, surrounds herself with plants, and enjoys far too much tea with honey and cream. She has learned how to blog—all you might ever have wanted to know about her is found at, but for poetic reflections try