Mercury day poetry: Kenney’s ‘Solstice’
This week’s poem comes from one of our favorite poets (and a good friend), Richard Kenney. This one is from his volume, Orrery. As the title might suggest, Kenney is a poet who is keenly aware of the movements of the planets.
Christmas: quince, persimmon,
glass flowers twirling
in a glass case,
closed. A candle blown–
Now the world is locked and motionless.
Binoculars left on the sill are laced
with hoar frost– frozen compass rose.
The only color left across
this stark, inert field of view
is the red stem of the thermometer
itself. I watch it shrink back down
its bulb. This world will be too hard.
I press my wrist against
the bull’s-eye windowpane a moment,
imagining my own blood
shrinking back along the glassworks
of the veinous system
to the heart.
Posted by Bobbie