Photo by Ales Krivec
I Find You as the Sun
for Christine Jablonski
Josh Humphrey
On the days after you leave,
the winds are unleashed.
They blow the breaths from
our bodies. They tie us
in knots or they tear us to
pieces. They grieve with us.
The North wind rages.
The West wind with quiet
tears into the Passaic.
At a moment, I will wish
you were here to see it, to
put us back into words like
you would. On a day
when the sky leaves the
smallest hole in the clouds,
I watch the light find us
all at once. I think of you
first and forever and
I find you as the Sun, how
you climb in your travels,
inching down the trees and
the old smoke stacks,
lighting the factory windows,
falling gentle on the rooftops,
reaching out for all the faces
patient and careful until
you are touching everything.
I find you as the Sun and
you burn bright, saying
this is not a perfect day but
it is a day to spend.
Go build what can be built.
Go remember all the songs.
Go write my poem in light.
for Christine Jablonski
Josh Humphrey
On the days after you leave,
the winds are unleashed.
They blow the breaths from
our bodies. They tie us
in knots or they tear us to
pieces. They grieve with us.
The North wind rages.
The West wind with quiet
tears into the Passaic.
At a moment, I will wish
you were here to see it, to
put us back into words like
you would. On a day
when the sky leaves the
smallest hole in the clouds,
I watch the light find us
all at once. I think of you
first and forever and
I find you as the Sun, how
you climb in your travels,
inching down the trees and
the old smoke stacks,
lighting the factory windows,
falling gentle on the rooftops,
reaching out for all the faces
patient and careful until
you are touching everything.
I find you as the Sun and
you burn bright, saying
this is not a perfect day but
it is a day to spend.
Go build what can be built.
Go remember all the songs.
Go write my poem in light.