I got my first look at this lovely project last evening, when all the poets (save one) read their calendar pieces. I'm liking the idea of living with one poem for a whole month as it sits on my wall, catching my eye at odd moments. All the poets are from L.A. County, and a sense of the place and its distinctly observed worlds flows through, though the poems are quite diverse. I was pleased to be in such good company, and quite tickled to be "Miss May."
Here's one of the poems I read, not a new one, but one I like:
When we were snow
We dreamed cold streams had crystallized us,
fractals in radiant bloom at the
borders of these temporary bodies,
our vague shapes edged with infinity
and tossed back into lightness, into
exquisite refraction, and we could
see ourselves that way for just an instant
before the slow drift, the gradual
return to yet and almost, to time
as it blows across our path, measuring
our scattered fall, the span your words have
traveled to reach me, to crack our frost
walls and set us gently in our bed
again, warm beneath the dark sky, this storm.
