POEMS/ Tenacity
Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967), Constant Leaf, 1960
Tenacity
after Charles Burchfield, Constant Leaf
On soil cold as hearts that do not beat,
snow falls and falls where trees are thin and bare.
Now flesh on old bones shivers in defeat,
no warmth and no relief from dark despair.
And yet a single oak leaf, dry and brown,
remains and waits for spring atop the snow,
its brittle points thrust upward from the ground
as if to fly aloft once more and grow
on limbs above that reach for summer’s light,
where it will spread and open to the sun
away from shorter days and longer nights
an optimist although its life is done.
So we ourselves, our journey near complete,
avoid the earth that waits beneath our feet.
This poem appears in Migrations (Antrim House, 2013)
after Charles Burchfield, Constant Leaf
On soil cold as hearts that do not beat,
snow falls and falls where trees are thin and bare.
Now flesh on old bones shivers in defeat,
no warmth and no relief from dark despair.
And yet a single oak leaf, dry and brown,
remains and waits for spring atop the snow,
its brittle points thrust upward from the ground
as if to fly aloft once more and grow
on limbs above that reach for summer’s light,
where it will spread and open to the sun
away from shorter days and longer nights
an optimist although its life is done.
So we ourselves, our journey near complete,
avoid the earth that waits beneath our feet.
This poem appears in Migrations (Antrim House, 2013)
