George Lang

Québec

Early or Late

Early or late you woke
to revive the waning fire.
Numb asleep I still could hear

splinter the shingle you broke,
against closed lids see flare
the flash as kindling took.

I was roused by sleight
and saw, crouching in a nimbus
of flame stirred up from embers

a sylph afire, a sprite,
the camber of your members
bathed in amber light.

The gauze frost has laid
on panes and sun dissolves
fades as my tepid breath
makes a clearing on the glaze.
 
As if one afternoon could
have the least effect on time,
on someone scraping rime
to gaze at the gibbous moon
through gelid glass
which brittle branches graze.

There are no maps to trace
the slopes we shared, only limbs
bared in the sweep frost ungirds,
cold which leaches light away,
loss no beauty can allay.

George Lang  was born in Houston and left as soon as he could. After a stint in West Africa, he ended up in Canada where he had an academic career as a comparatist. He retired in 2009 and devoted himself to poetry and translations from a variety of languages. His personal website is www.alteritas.net/GXL/.