Nunc Dimittis by Rebekah Curry

Nunc Dimittis
In memory of Geoffrey Hill

Lord, now lettest Thou. Leaf-fires
smoke in pale rain. A hawk circles.
All that is given, I have: the dark
of pines, the tooth of the fox,
the slow blood, breath through the mist.
What must be enough is enough. Mine eyes
have seen Thy salvation, my death
lies in the sodden roots.
In peace so let me. I hide
under the shadow of these wings.

by Rebekah Curry

Twitter: @rebekah_curry

Editor’s Note: Abbreviated sentences and careful enjambment frame this lament with weary grief, and while the nod to classical prayer is evident, the imagery reminds the reader that death is more visceral than cerebral.

Émigré Summer by Rebekah Curry

Émigré Summer
(Poem Beginning with a Line from Adam Zagajewski)

The city’s towers rise like words of love.
A liquid sun drops honey. On the air,
something like lilac, blooming in a grove
that memory imagined. You were there
when maps had other colors. Here, the light
falls on you strangely; this is not the sky
you had a language for. Above, the flight
of birds you cannot name. The noble lie
of summer still surrounds you, but you keep
the knowledge of what follows: twilit snow,
the clouds where the forgotten gather sleep.
You travel in that quiet world below,
its constellations offering no chart,
with no companion but the secret heart.

by Rebekah Curry

Twitter: @rebekah_curry

Editor’s Note: This sonnet captures images as if they were treasures. The close is soft, but no less emphatic emotionally.