Countries of the body count become our home.
Alluvial death undresses in its lair.
Mouse shadows bed against the early moon
and winters past that felled the elder elms
now fall again in mind with every leaf.

Page 353

Jarred in June the garnet cherries turn
to intimations of a murrey dusk
when vesper light extinguishes its lamps
and seals the flame. We take our rest in rounds.
North is true but only by a star
that melts like snow upon a cirrus mane.
A roan curvets and leaps the paddock fence
to graze and eye an appaloosa sky,
the palimpsest of autumn burned to grey.
Gone the swallows’ woven art of air.
Gnomonic shadows tend from every tree
and mark without summation or despair
the dying day that strengthens to depart.
Go the stillness says, and go by way
the storms will come from rales of dragon bones
that break in margins of the ancient maps,
the wilds of glacial Boreas, the isles
of frozen mist and spray, our spirit goes.
But how to live the stillness will not say.
It lingers on the lips that lose their words,
and draws a single breath to speak your name.

Page 354

Authors:

Claude Barbre

Claude Barbre, PhD, LP, is a full professor at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology where he is a board member, training supervisor, and core faculty member. He is the Course-Lead Coordinator of the Psychodynamics Orientation and lead faculty in the Child and Adolescent Studies. Dr. Barbre served for 12 years as Executive Director of The Harlem Family Institute, a New York City school-based psychoanalytic training program. Author of prize-winning articles, books, and poetry, he is a five-time recipient of the international Gradiva Award in four separate categories and of other recent awards. He can be contacted at claudebarbre@earthlink.net.

How to Cite This:

Barbre, C. (2022). November memoriam [poem]. Clio’s Psyche, 28(3), 353-354.

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