January 2: Full Moon, James Wright, "Beginning"

It is late on the second day of the new year.  There is a full moon in the sky, but it is masked by snow and clouds and wind.

It has been a really full day--writing, cleaning out my attic, answering e-mails, stomping out small fires. 

It's time for a poem and then bed.

Saint Marty is weary.

Beginning

by:  James Wright

The moon drops one or two feathers into the field.   

The dark wheat listens.

Be still.

Now.

There they are, the moon's young, trying

Their wings.

Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow

Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone

Wholly, into the air.

I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe

Or move.

I listen.

The wheat leans back toward its own darkness,

And I lean toward mine.