Happy New Year!

 You can’t mark a New Year without thinking about the passage of time. I like to hear what the poets have to say.

In his poem “Heart of the Clock,” Charles Reznikoff says:

Now the sky begins to turn upon its hub—

the sun; each leaf revolves upon its stem;

now the plague of watches and of clocks nicks away

the day—

You can use measurements as great as the constellations and as small as parlor clocks. But however you measure it, time bleeds away, and so

our lives are leaking from the places,

and the day’s brightness dwindles into stars.

That last line was engraved on Reznikoff’s grave.

I like thinking that a man who was so different from me left something behind that I can use. His poems are a little starlight for me, especially on dark nights.

Way back in 2021 (actually last month, on three successive days, Dec. 4-6), I mentioned Reznikoff as a poet worth reading. If I were going to make a list of my Top 10 poets, he’d be there.