Published Thursday, February 14, 2019
Let’s not give each other things that will outlast us.
I’m done with the sticky sweet accumulation of stuff.
Don’t get me wrong
I’m not giving up on sweetness
just finding it elsewhere.
With friends, for example,
walking in deep snowy woods, drunk with exertion,
breath becoming steam becoming spun sugar
voices silenced by the carcass of a buck
we stand together wondering how he went down
wanting to do something, wanting
to move this beautiful body
to the open edge of the prairie
so that eagles as well as coyotes can feed on it
that’s how we reason it
grasping the antlers and leaning into the job
but isn’t all determination, including the determination to love,
We take off our mittens and stroke the golden hair
that will soon line the nest of some other life
laughing at the shock of it
—blood on snow, sub-zero air, sky, love—
things that can’t be seen but are just as real
as black ice
or simple syrup.
—Meredith Ann Fuller