The Comforter

    “The Comforter,” New Era, Aug. 1991, 20

    The Comforter

    They say the fire falls swiftly,

    Breaking adamant hearts, neatly

    Dividing joints and marrow

    For sterile reassembly.

    Pure, molten personality

    Will cool into new symmetry

    As crimson years bleach into snow

    And melt out of memory.

    I kneel and cringe, expecting

    Ecstasy and quickening,

    Ambush by wrestling angels,

    Annunciation that compels

    Belief. Tonight only snow

    Falls, half an inch, just enough.