New York poet Roderick Wilson wipes the snow from the threadbare conclusion of wintertime, on the cusp of transition. As readers, we are witness to the end of things in Roderick’s poem “Practicing Resurrection”, but we are also witness to the renewal to come, to brighter days shining on the bones of depletion and survival.
Practicing Resurrection
Even now
In winter scarcity, absorbed-
No idea, not speaking
But picking
The whole carcass
Right to the bone-
Crow
Deeply iridescent
Not believing,
Becoming.
Roderick Wilson
Roderick Wilson lives in upstate New York near the Vermont border. He graduated university in Art/Anthropology and works as a self-employed woodworker. He also works an artist and writer/poet.
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