Friday, January 6, 2017


farewell, tree
farewell, lights
farewell, candles
farewell, bright
windows of my darkened house.

snow this morning would have been
a way to let new brightness in,
but not to be--there's only frost,
and no delay.  all is lost.
today I start to say goodbye
to years of certain going high,
to neighbors I could trust to be,
however different, just like me.
this morning optimism fails
and easy hope goes off the rails.
I sign, I share, I think of writing,
I think of fires I should be lighting--
the wall is tall.
I don't feel Tillie.
my soul is small
and willy nilly
looking for a place to hide
from come what may.
I can't decide.

fair weather friend is what I am.

farewell, sir. farewell, ma'am.
you led with grace. you led with art.
hello, winter of my heart.

(c) HM 2017

Saturday Morning Addenda:
Thank you, friends, for your compassionate responses.  Friday morning improved with the addition of some optimistic-sounding music played loud in my empty classroom, followed by Poetry Friday (when Angel's coral reef poem began with "its a whole new world it looks like galaxys" all came right with the future).  I also have reason to believe that these moments of despair and depression mean I am staying "woke."

Here are a couple of articles that speak to what I'm feeling (and if the state of your own soul is fragile, consider waiting to read until you're feeling stronger).
A Society Too Complex for Its People
We Are All Stepping Into a Broken Future


  1. "I think of fires I should be lighting" -- <3. I feel you!

  2. Oh, Heidi. Sending you a big, juicy hug. Cling to hope, despite your optimism failing. You put so much goodness out into the world and *my* hope is that it will be reflected back to you.

  3. "this morning optimism fails" brings is all to a fulcrum, where the see saw has sawed to the lowest point, but only on one side. The other must be high and dry, your summer heart is there somewhere. I hope its secret warmth thaws your winter fears. Great poem, great use of language and rhyme to create a quick-moving, staccato panic, and ending on that poetic last line. It made me want to send you hugs, too. XOXO

  4. Hey, Heidi. Whatever is going on, sending many hugs. Mordhorst Power will never be denied. We are filled with Mordhorst Pride!

  5. Yep--I know the feeling of hope going off the rails. But I am certain your light will return (and probably never left in your classroom.) The world needs your light and words. Thanks for sharing so eloquently what many have felt this season.

  6. Yes, some days it does feel like easy hope is going off the rails, especially when I turn to the news. Despite it all, I expect flowers this year because I will plant flowers and do everything I can to encourage hope to grow.

  7. Oh, Heidi, you cause me to want to come over to turn on the lights in your house, and celebrate that one place that feels good - home. I know we all will keep watching and take action. You've written your feelings beautifully, I think for all of us.

  8. You've crafted this powerfully emotional poem so beautifully. I'm so sorry that you're feeling lost in such a bleak space.

  9. Dear Heidi,

    This particularly struck me:

    farewell, sir. farewell, ma'am.
    you led with grace. you led with art.

    And yet we remember and we will not go backwards. And yes, winter. But also millions of candles, lit.

    Thank you.

  10. I saw the First Lady's last address and just wept. What are we going to do with this new way? I am fearful and sorrowful. My hope is they will not go away. They will be activists, and , lord knows, we need activists. I feel your pain.

  11. sending you a spray of the form of words and friendship bright.

  12. I'm with you, Heidi. I made a conscious decision not to post any more poems about you know who, but that doesn't mean I won't write about the feelings engendered by his actions and distractions. I did a digital collage earlier this week that I've titled, "What Will Be Lost." Not to put too fine a point on it, it's art and joy. But, being lost is only a temporary state. Here's a quote I like by Jack Burnham, "Art is what remains after everything else is destroyed or forgotten."

  13. Heidi, I understand the pain you feel. Writing about it helps. Thank you for educating me about "staying woke." This is woke time for all of us, particularly poets. It's the season of raising voices, of holding candles to shine light where there is darkness. Hold tight to your circles, Heidi. You'll find a way through.

  14. Heidi, there are moments when I feel that "my soul is too small" for the coming years. But then I read posts like this, know I'm not alone, and also know that we'll help each other be strong enough to face the challenges ahead. Your final stanza is gorgeous!

  15. The good thing is is that some of us are not in despair for the future. I am quite optimistic about a variety of things that are happening. And because of that, I hope you can also see some changes that won't be nearly as terrible as imagined. I felt this same way 8 years ago. Hugs!


Thanks for joining in the wild rumpus!