Liberating the Moment


World outside my kitchen window.

Liberating the Moment

She missed it earlier
but examining the November storm
from behind the sanctuary of
coffee-sweetened kitchen window,
before the late-fall deluge wiped evidence,
wispy-warm poems rose
from every chimney vent
clear to the far tree-line, each
an ascending esoteric-buttressed declaration
of internal warmth and acceptance.

She smiled,
squeezing me extra tight
as the rain shushed the trees,
shooed the expelled steam-dancers,
obscured the looking-glass,
embracing the roof overhead
with white noise.

We observed the rain in silence.

Seizing the moment
would’ve been ideal; instead,
we let it breathe,
the evergreens and barren trees,
the chimney vents and fogging panes,
she, embraced by me,
all exhaling in equanimous unity.

Another one for toads.

7 thoughts on “Liberating the Moment

  1. This poem reads to me as a settling – the poems are brought to life, seep from chimney, etc and then all is quiet as you hold each other. Beautiful.


  2. I love the idea of liberating the moment, Barry, and the way you set up the scene with the November storm outside a ‘coffee-sweetened kitchen window’ and how the ‘wispy-warm poems rose / from every chimney vent’. You’ve added sound too, with the rain shushing the trees and shooing the ‘expelled steam-dancers’ – and the silence in the isolated line is so effective. The final stanza is so satisfying. Lovely.


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