Welcome, and a warm first hello to the newcomers!
I’m so happy you’re here.
Each of these Sunday poems center loosely around a tarot card, and this week we’re checking in with the Hanged Man.
This card reminds me that acceptance of life on life’s terms has always shown me the next right choice.
YOUR BODY AND MINE I came up in a winter wolfpack. Back in the 80s, I was so angry to be born. “There is no room for me here,” I howled, “There isn’t enough space for me to expand into my full form. You dropped me into a wasteland: Winter in New England is no time or place for inexperienced hands.” Could not understand the gift, Did not grasp how heavy even the best life hangs, Fought to accept the rift And let it grow. Wolves are supposed to be social, But I felt safer alone. Ran away to find my own territory, Finally gave up control. Anyone else here ever lived the same story? I bet somebody in this room knows. Witness the winter wolfpack. I was stuck with a broken alpha. No guidance, just bites, No predicting what’s wrong or right, Just surviving each day, Then somehow finding a way to sleep at night, To rest and ready for the next attack, The next drive-by, The next fight. I fled from the fray. I crept away, I made no sound in the night, I said no goodbye. Closure is for other, sweeter wolves, While I was just doing what I had to do not to die. I ran from my inheritance: A black hole sucking everything inside. Deep winter makes a wolfpack strange. You would not believe how much magic it takes, And by magic, I mean hard work for longer than you would believe, To trust that not all other wolves mean danger, And to welcome others like me into my den to sleep. I did not think this body would be something I would keep. I wasn’t sure I would ever get all of the guts out of my sharpened teeth. But look at me now! I wish this feeling for each of you. More alive and so much more loud Than any of the nasty shit I’ve been through. I ran hard from circumstance and I got my wolf ass out. No more fumbling in the cold and groping in the dark. My new and better life is true! The rain came down hard as I wrote these lines. May there be peace in your body and mine.
This has real teeth...wild and wounded but defiant.
You write and read so well. Spoken words, wolves, rhymes... what's not to love?