A Poem By Eugene Richie

by Mark Bibbins, Editor

Ca’Mea

for John and David

What is it about the certainty of snow

that makes us feel human and mortal — 
the warmth and care of being inside

while winter goes about her usual business,
flakes swirling in the wind
just outside the restaurant door?

But here inside, conversation is warm,
a glowing fire, there can never be too much pleasure,
or if there were, it is already beyond our human capacity

to wonder, which is so great in itself, alone,
without our pushing it along the evening route
to far beyond us, within you, and then

here before you or beyond you too — 
oh that crazy guy, that insane woman,
that saint or sinner of old — that’s all, folks.

Eugene Richie’s most recent book of poems is Psyche and Amor (Factory Hollow Press), with Rosanne Wasserman. He is the Director of Writing at Pace University in New York City.

Do you know how many poems there are here in The Poetry Section’s vast archive? Me neither! Why don’t you count ’em up and get back to me. I bet it’s a bunch.

You may contact the editor at [email protected].