The Silence Between Us

The silence between us

is like the ice thickening

on the lake of oblivion.

I could trudge out to the center

from the shore

and drill a hole

and fish for something to sustain me,

but the reward is so small,

and I have to do it each day.

It makes me tired,

thinking of all the holes I have drilled in the ice.

*

The catch is never big enough,

or is bluegills instead of lake perch,

bass instead of trout.

I did not catch it on a dry fly,

I used a bobber.

I went out too early.

I stayed up too late.

I spent too much time,

I did not spend enough time.

*

My feet are cold,

and I am frozen in place

like those unfortunate victims in superhero movies,

unable to move,

watching the world fall around them.

Sometimes, the writer makes it look funny,

even when it results in death.

*

It would be easier to wait,

and hope for spring to come,

and that I don’t starve myself while dreaming

the ice will melt by itself,

and my feet will go somewhere,

anywhere warm.

*

If once in a while,

you come out to stand on the bank

and hold up the creel I left by the door-

*

Well.

************

We are in the midst of the sixth and final season of winter, The Season of Greater Cold 大寒 (daikan) in the traditional Japanese lunisolar calendar. The second of Daikan’s three micro-seasons- Ice Thickens on Streams 水沢腹堅(sawamizu kōri tsumeru) runs from January 25–29.

If you have a Medium account, you can find more poems in my year-long writing journey (October 2023- October 2024) in the list Micro-Season Poem Cycle as published in Scribe, edited by Thomas Gaudex.

I also made a recording of this one on SoundCloud if you would like to take a listen.

The Silence Between Us

Thanks for reading. Natalie