“Shoveled Darkness” by Donald Illich

February 9, 2016

I wanted Winter to come, to blast suicides,
freeze them in graves. I begged for snow,
to climb the roof, to slide down our sides.
I wished for everything to be as cold, white
as my heart, to be as lifeless as city sidewalk.
When the dead come to bring us to crypts
I hope for frigid air, the occurrence of dead,
brittle stars. When December and January
shovel darkness on the day, I desire to see
nothing, to carve more darkness in the sky.
If love arrives, bash it against the void.
Drop it in a lifeless hole, with no map,
no “x” to spot where our feelings had gone,
no parchment we can roll in our hands.

 
Donald_Illich-Don20IlichDonald Illich has published poetry in The Iowa Review, Fourteen Hills, and Cold Mountain Review. He won Honorable Mention in the Washington Prize book contest.

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