Note To Self
It’s Mahler’s Sixth, with Szell conducting, on
the tragic in our art
and lives is what I’m thinking now, the part
we play within the cycle.
Wife is gone,
and dogs are fed, asleep. I’m with my self
or selves, my many deaths and births.
brown leaves shot through with sun, the crumbling shelf
of cloud beyond the neighbors’ house that’s old
but freshly painted and reroofed, the new
blue vein I see on my left shin. . .
from woodwinds, strings, the brass erupts.
we handle flux? Catholicism, Tao,
or Hamlet’s calm “Let be?”
My wife comes back
tomorrow. Percy yelps; he wants a snack.
Thomas Zimmerman teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits two literary magazines at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, MI. Poems of his have appeared recently in Antiphon, Electric Windmill Press, and The Petrichor Review. You can link here to Tom’s website: www.thomaszimmermanonline.com
Copyright © 2012 by Thomas Zimmerman