Into the new year with old wounds.
Doctor appointments lined up.
Wanting to let go of grief, of the weep,
rend, wrack, realizing the news will
never, ever go away. Small souls adrift.
Blankets pulled over weary heads.
Late night walk on the Boardwalk to find
what honkytonk money will buy.
It doesn’t take long to find snake-oil
justice even under a full moon.
More steps down the pier, ocean scent,
edge of the world, even grudges disappear.
Let me move slow as the crippled stars,
find a philosophy in solitude
in this spot in the unanchored expanse.
I rework the words of scripture, years
hunkered down, swinging old swords.
Bury them all in flecks of moonlight.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Huxtable Mohr has a B.A. from Cornell University and California Teacher’s Credential from SF State, as well as attending many conferences and classes at Stanford and Cornell. She is currently in independent study at Stanford University and is a member of the Squaw Valley Community of Writers. She has published in Mangrove, ZZYZZA, Bay Area Poet’s Coalition, Blueline, Concho RiverReview, Avocet and other publications. She has taught for ten years as member of California Poets in the Schools both in private and public schools and the San Mateo County Jail. She has published one book of poetry, The Well. Further information and work can be found on her website, NancyHuxtableMohr.org. She lives in Northern California.