Then and Now

 

It used to be, my best memories were unpeopled.

 

Cold air over a warm bed.

Pines and the tangless air of a lake,

fringed with pines like a monk’s tonsure.

Pileated woodpeckers and cinnamon toast.

 

But then the one where you hugged me, left me wondering— 

at that strength of hug from a casual friend.

 

Less casual now.

 

The bed still warm and the air—

a marvelous biting, as cool water turns to frost.

 


Maureen Thorson is the author of three collections of poetry, most recently Share the Wealth (Veliz Books 2022), and a forthcoming book of essays, On Dreams (Bloof Books 2023). Individual poems have been recently published in 32 Poems and Ploughshares, and featured by Poet Laureate Ada Limón on The Slowdown. She lives in Falmouth, Maine. Visit her at maureenthorson.com.

Donate