Just in time for the winter solstice comes the Winter issue of 2RV. Now snuggle up with a poem or two.

The 2River View, 17.2 (Winter 2013).

James B. Nicola

[audio http://www.2river.org/2RView/17_1/audio/_nicola.mp3]

The Uses of Spite

We take the spring for granted.

My uncle was so truculent
he eked out another twenty-five years
beyond his date with cancer
in spite of the pain.
He refused to miss a minute of the party
until the party, from kindness, let him go.
In his case, I would say, the spite was good.

One spring, it will be us.
And which of us will be awake to see
the sense in eking a century
and spit at imminent ends and say:

Another spring (o god), another tick.
The bluebird’s gone. He’s staying south.
The laurels have surprised us by not blooming this year, here,
And the croaks of frogs are getting softer, softer. . . ?

O World, be like my uncle. Be truculent! Stay!

Andrew Cox

From Me Far Off, with Others All Too Near

Shakespeare, Sonnet 61

Too much excitement for one day wonders where
That laughing is coming from and when an afternoon nap
Will come home from its morning of secret errands

Far off a briefcase walks into a solid state building
And let’s the elevator take it up to the floor
Where what waits has an extra Y chromosome

Others all too near are on their way to meet
Long hair and a pierced nose for an afternoon of fun
Where clothes have a life of their own

And now the shoes and purse swallow the pill
That makes everything ok while the gold chain
Places a bet on who has the whitest teeth

Laughter saunters up the street confident that no one
Knows where it’s been or what it’s been doing