November 23: Still Storming, Donald Hall, "Carol"

It has been storming all day long in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.  Actually, it's been storming in select counties in the U.P., and I happen to live in one of those counties.  By tomorrow morning, my little town will be drifted over with at least eight inches of freshly fallen snow.  Considering the fact that last night, when I came home from having Thanksgiving dinner, it was close to fifty degrees outside, this change is drastic.

Of course, I knew snow was inevitable.  At some point, the central U.P. was going to get nailed. It's a little thing called the lake effect.  I was simply hoping the lake effect was going to kick in closer to Christmas, like, say, December 24.  That was my hope.  However, I had to slog through drifts of white misery to get to my front door this evening.  Winter is upon us.

I have been listening to Christmas music all day long, at work and at home.  I think it's one of the side effects of today's weather.  Snow puts me in the mood to watch White Christmas with Bing Crosby.  Now that we are past Turkey Day, I can listen to Christmas carols without any apologies.

One of my favorite Donald Hall poems is a Christmas carol.  It's a simple little verse, full of silence and wonder.  I love the touch of darkness Hall brings into the final lines.  It's like he's reminding his reader:  Yes, the nativity narrative is beautiful, but beauty isn't free.

So, on this snowy eve, Saint Marty presents Donald Hall's poem "Carol" in celebration of P.O.E.T.S. Day.

Carol

The warmth of cows
     That chewed on hay
And cherubim
Protected Him
     As small He lay.

Chickens and sheep
     Knew He was there
Because all night
A holy light
     Suffused the air.

Darkness was long
     And the sun brief
When the Child arose
A man of sorrows
     And friend to grief.

Away in a Donald Hall poem...