National Poetry Month: Day #16

For friends going through much worse than they deserve:

In Such Times

(for Theodore Roethke)

When a cold wind comes over stones,
I pull my collar up and tuck
my fingers into pockets.

Glove-clumsy, I patch
the cracks in the foundation
and brew strong coffee
to drink while it dries.

When the wind of love's
worst ugly day plays the blues
down the chimney,
I whistle a counterpoint
in harmony.

When the garden looks more like a grave,
I sprinkle crumbs and seed
to keep small things
alive.

When the spirit moves not upward,
I stoop
to pick it up.

©2001 L.A. Smith.