January

K. Chapman
1 min readJan 14, 2021

a poem

Carson National Forest. Photo by author

Winter still
in this neverending season
No matter how cold I keep the bedroom, I sweat all night
dreams toss me round and back

I cannot remember the last baseball season
or meal with friends
no foray into another state to hike or sun

I am sorry for the death and damage that the year begat
but I love the life grown from the inside of me
outward into the light
becoming last year who I wanted to be,
steadfast in a crashing wind
unto myself, my own bulwark

Cut my job or extend it;
the new house can fall through, or I will buy it,
let me alone or send me a more-than-half-heart
of a man.
I am unshakeable

Old myriads of loss and violation
turned empty creases into canyons
I fell into,
got another view of the rocks and soft places

My dog watches me cook, smelling the spiced oil, hoping for a bite
We are becoming more patient with one another

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K. Chapman

Persuader by trade. Drawn back to Texas. One of the lucky ones on the path. Navigating seasons of loss.