Narrow Road to the Deep North 

Stephen Kuusisto, Letters to Borges

I’ve been turning in the gloom for years

Making vows, Lord, hoping apples,

Skies late winter will turn to spring,

Just enough Rachmaninoff,

Maybe we can really go back home…

I sat in the Cafe Strindberg

December frost on a window

Coffee steaming

Pencils before me—

What might poems be for?

Even then I was half milk

Half iodine, optimistic

And very sad,

The songs on high

Were so cold

Each silent word

Like a spoon in snow.

I learned my work like everyone,


Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: