Hilary Carr-Butler is a poet and musician living in upstate New York. As a younger person, she was inspired by e.e. cummings, Rumi, Hafiz, Pablo Neruda, William Butler Yeats, and Dylan Thomas. She treasures poetry's ability to open minds and connect hearts.
A tree-hugging nature-lover, she also loves NYC for its jazz, her favorite music; and for its amazing, diverse people and cultures. Hilary is currently a senior at CCNY-CWE, working on a BA in Interdisciplinary Arts and Sciences.
Haiku in Four Parts
August almost gone,
Cricket symphony sustains
soft rhythms of night.
My young lover’s back,
a snake in the harvest moon,
sliding through my hands.
Walking alone now,
open arms embrace the stars,
midnight mountain hush.
Guitar rides the breeze,
sounding from an unknown house,
yet drawing me home.
Autumn Storm, 2020
I stand alone, but not unloved
in the middle of this worsening storm.
Deep in this time of masks and corpses,
brother against brother,
red against blue,
science against demagogues,
what have I lost?
Should I count my losses, or should I soldier on,
knowing I’m incredibly blessed to have air in my lungs,
earth under my feet,
and to walk in the company of trees and angels?
Deep in this time of miracles and heroes,
friendships sparked across the globe in digital ethers,
what have we begun to let go of?
acceptance of unfair conditions.
What can we release some more?
Our habitual lack of mindfulness for the Earth
and for each other’s health,
corporate greed ranking higher than widespread human needs,
policies based on prejudice, injustice, and hate.
What was an I became a we,
and if this sometimes isn’t so,
may I speak it into being.