Come January (poem)

What is it about January
that warms my soul?
A wondrous calm,
a holy solitude,
a glow of anticipation
. . . of what?

What is it about January
that's so inviting?
Early morning coffee,
burrowed under a blanket,
a fireplace,
the bliss and ache of quiet.

What is it about January,
with countryside camouflaged
in nuances of grey and white,
flora and fauna at rest,
stark limbs silhouetted
against lingering leaden skies?

What is it about January,
its own contemplative retreat?
Even with a crimson flash of cardinals
and beauty of berries limned with snow,
there's a bittersweet longing.
A fundamental yearning for Heaven?

(2021 Joy Neal Kidney)


    • In the early 2000s I tried my hand at it, knowing it would strengthen my writing. But after I became ill, I couldn’t write at all, and when I started getting better and realized that over a decade was lost, I was afraid that poetry was just another rabbit trail–and even gave my books about writing poetry away. But after connecting with Nicholas Dowd, whose “Meadowlark” poem introduces “Leora’s Letters,” and his compelling poems, I’ve bought copies of Kooser and Collins’ books–again. The title to this one has been rattling around in my head for weeks, and I feel another one starting. Fascinating, isn’t it! I’m also encouraging Nick Dowd to publish his delightful writing!

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