A Poem for a Thursday #289

Joyce Sutphen served as Minnesota’s Poet Laureate from 2011 to 2021. The language of her poetry is simple and direct and thus pulls the reader into the wonder of the natural world and human experience. Sutphen’s poetry “explores themes of family, memory, and the passage of time, often grounded in specific locations and imbued with a quiet sense of wonder.”

The second half of my life will be black
to the white rind of the old and fading moon.
The second half of my life will be water
over the cracked floor of these desert years.
I will land on my feet this time,
knowing at least two languages, and who
my friends are. I will dress for the 
occasion, and my hair shall be
whatever color I please.
Everyone will go on celebrating the old
birthday, counting the years as usual,
but I will count myself new from this
inception, this imprint of my own desire.

The second half of my life will be swift,
past leaning fenceposts, a gravel shoulder,
asphalt tickets, the beckon of open road.
The second half of my life will be wide-eyed,
fingers shifting through fine sands,
arms loose at my sides, wandering feet.
There will be new dreams every night,
and the drapes will never be closed.
I will toss my string of keys into a deep
well and old letters into the grate.

The second half of my life will be ice
breaking up on the river, rain
soaking the fields, a hand
held out, a fire,
and smoke going 
upward, always up.

Crossroads
Joyce Sutphen