Athens GA, Sunday March 1, 2009
"Snow Jobs" - Eugene C. Bianchi
Sleet is serious in the South,
defying Mason Dixon, falling
like tiny shards of glass, tapping
ever so softly on windows at dawn
like an unexpected great aunt come
to discuss your grandfather's genes.
She's sorry to bother you as you pour coffee
but since you're shut in and all that ...
We are forever covering up, she says,
to whitewash the vulnerable, the insecure,
to stand bright on pedestals famous for
praise or blame, no matter, since all
publicity is good if it doesn't stain
the snow, too long or too deep.
Did Hamlet ask to be or seem to be,
a query shaking mighty kingdoms, thinking it
better to leave poor Yorick's skull unearthed?
Yet try as we may, we can't stem the thaw,
the melting of age that limns our faces
with bitter regret or a gentle awareness
that the journey is the destination,
the longing its own reward,
our weakness a path to the real.
Eugene C. Bianchi
Athens, GA Feb. 13, 2014