poetry

loose ends

loose ends

gliding through aspen and spruce
the question arises unbidden –
what unfinished business do I have?

mostly the same as any mother
any wife
any daughter
any sister

and then the book I have been writing
all these late nights for years
unsent
unpublished
unimportant

otherwise
I think all the people I love know
and now all that’s left
is to sink into the skis’ kick and glide
think thank you over and over
and pray for mercy