IN JANUARY
By Gerard J. Cambridge



Things promised are appreciated most:
And that is why this beam
(Entering as it does
This month, my kitchen window),
Celestial magician
Making of this pane a door,
Charging to bright pale gold
The crumbs of the breakfast toast,
Marrying, far-travelled,
In brilliance this white page,
Delights me, I think, more
Than it will do again, and did, before,
In the blander
Summers of its taller age.

For here the stone is all uncarved yet,
And here the canvas is untouched;
Still to be written the marvellous verses,
Unuttered yet frustration's curses,
And undenied by actual hillocks
The inner ranges, cherished, we must hide!