"Winter Song for One Who Suffers"

A Poem by Brenda Hillman

Published in the The New Yorker print edition of the December 7, 2020 issue.

The stars stand up

behind the day. A known dove balances

on its claw

at the window. A cosmic incident

of darkness has begun

 & a mild excess of beauty
   will be offered to the dead,
  which they will eat. On a hill

the wise man serves the people,
 your thought splits
 in half when he speaks of the old
 revolts, the return
 of apocalypse, motive & advancement.

   A soul can crouch
   a long time while the heart
  expands to reach its edges.
 What is missing past the glitter
 of the harvest?
      Friend, you chose
 to live. How? You did. So many
 choices, not just two, encrypted
 behind the mystery of the sun,

then the hurt was set aside,
  indeterminate chaos
 called in by love.