Two Poems by Greg Watson

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You remind me of home,
of winter that calls the horizon
into question for miles.
No wonder I am drawn to you,
making my way through the seemingly
endless thickets of words;
through the story someone else
has been telling all along.
It was a fine story, but
you are where I long to be.
Here, along the shore, where words
come to a sudden end,
weary and useless
as discarded machinery.
You are the place of respite,
place of exhalation,
wind and waves erasing
themselves to begin anew.
You are my true north,
my clearing when I was certain
that none would appear.
No wonder your landscape
is folded in prayer.
I breathe you in,
and breathe you out.
That is all we need to say.


Blue Hour
I still think of you
these quiet, windless mornings,
my mind too tired to chase
such thoughts away;
before the birdsong
and the blue light rises,
before the sound
of floorboards creaking,
from rooms I can never quite place.
I still think of you,
as I sometimes think
of winter near summer’s end,
knowing I could not live
there forever, but missing it
when it’s been gone
so long.


About the Poet
Greg Watson is the author of eight collections of poetry, most recently All the World at Once: New and Selected Poems. He is also co-editor with Richard Broderick of The Road by Heart: Poems of Fatherhood, published by Nodin Press.