Tom Montag – 4 poems

DARK HOLE

 

It’s always about loss,

though when we are young

we think it’s about love.

 

There’s an emptiness

in the heart that blood

alone cannot fill.

 

There’s a black hole

at the center of our

galaxy which pulls us

 

to some last, great darkness.

That’s not about love at all,

for all we love will be

 

compressed to nothing

or as near to nothing

as atoms ever get.

 

You must push through such

losses, though, before

you find what you need.

 


🍃

 

ANOTHER DEER

DEAD IN THE DITCH

 

And so you become

one with the universe,

one with this earth,

with the tawny grasses

that cradle you.

One with the vultures

that feast on you.

 

One with the sky

in which they fly.

One with wind. With

all of us, the huge

roaring greatness of

everything that is,

and was, and will be.

 

🍃

 

THE DRIVE

 

Such bright green,

this morning fire,

 

this consuming

light. We ask

 

for nothing, this

loveliness enough

 

to take us home.

 

🍃

 

SKATING THE FLOYD RIVER

WINTER 1964

 

Bitter cold. And why be out

in it? With wind an icy

sting above the river. And

snow on everything. With

fingers numbed lacing skates.

Why run the river’s fall towards

the Missouri?

 

                        To carve

the only marks the ice would

see that day. To skate free

as a poet would. To do

something that means something

even now, fifty years on.

 

🍃

 

 Tom Montag is the author of In This Place: Selected Poems 1982-2013He has been featured poet at Atticus Review (April, 2015), Contemporary American Voices (August, 2015), Houseboat (April, 2016), and Basil O’Flaherty Review (July, 2016), and received Pushcart Prize nominations from Provo Canyon Reviewand Blue Heron Review.

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