a poem for january 15
What is it called when two people have an ESV Bible,
A Spanish New Testament,
A Merriam-Webster dictionary,
A Greek New Testament,
A Greek lexicon,
And the internet
All open at the same time, looking up the etymology of jealousy versus envy?
Then later a roommate, in a black and white sweater,
lilts across the kitchen making sweet potatoes and a salad-
from one counter to another, she leans into what she does
like grass leans in the wind-
and salmon goes into the oven.
And there is a recording of “Gaudete” in sung in cockney accents.
Then a friend comes over with music in his hands,
Trying to put it into your clumsy hands, and you practice conducting entrances on the second eighth note of the down-beat.
What is it called when he and Meagan sit in the afternoon-lit living room
And talk about thought and emotion and the Aeolian harp
And whether a Brahms piece sounds like it was meant for strings or organ?
We have all of this and no name for it.
O peace of imprecision, of gifts that waft like fragrance, out of definition’s reach.