Pin It

A Poem: The Mathematician 

It seems I was born to count winters.
My years are scored by falling leaves.
Decembers like decimals of icy splinters.
To fields of corn the remainder cleaves.
I’ve measured time by love’s equation.
With sticks of chalk reduced to fingers.
Mindful of each numbers station,
But still the remainder lingers.
Where is my beloved puzzle?
Gone is my most cherished theme.
No sylvan flame near which to nuzzle.
Lost am I in Autumn’s dream.

Speaking of Winters, December

Comments

Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

  • Poem: To Be a Poet

    A poem by Sydna Altschuler Byrne.
    • Dec 1, 2015
  • Poem: Symposium

    A poem by Stephanie Ann Slepian.
    • Jan 1, 2016

Hudson Valley Events

submit event
Interview with Author & Poet  Karen Corinne Herceg @ WTBQ

Interview with Author & Poet Karen Corinne Herceg

Wed., March 22, 11 a.m.-12 p.m. — Host Joe Dans interviews poet and author Karen Corinne Herceg about her...
Writers in the House: A Conversation with 2017 Edith Wharton Writers-in-Residence @ The Mount

Writers in the House: A Conversation with 2017 Edith Wharton Writers-in-Residence

Wed., March 22, 3-5 p.m. — The 2017 Edith Wharton Writers-in-Residence – Christene Barberich, global editor in chief...

View all of today's events

Latest in Poetry

Hudson Valley Tweets