“The Coming Winter” by Krista Detor

“The Coming Winter” by Krista Detor

If we could be sure
this was the beginning
of the end of this mad dark
that we would not wake up
dreading another weary morning
wondering what new low
cruelty happened overnight
But we can’t know
at this point and just like
other black bottomless pit times
we have to keep breathing
maybe smile at someone
Find something today to be grateful for
Yes, it seems trite maybe
too small to make any difference
but this is how we will travel
to the other side—in baby steps
one foot, one breath
holding to some hope
like a balloon tied to a wrist
in a strong wind
but still holding on.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal on 10/1/25

Listening to “The World Is Water”

9/30/25

Listening to “The World Is Water”

by Krista Detor

I don’t know what to tell you
about navigating these dark waters
how to get from day to next day
to some safe shore in the distance
Songs running in my head
are essential to me, a soundtrack
of vibrations that ground me and calm

And of course, I have been
on this boat before, heading off to the horizon
no guarantees of the outcome
Yet to persist, knowing at some point
I will land on the other side
and I (you) will look back
and the journey might seem inevitable

yet it wasn’t. I walk baby steps in a direction
determined, patient, trusting
somehow managing to hold on
to keep breathing. So, stop for now
Listen to this song and breathe it in
no matter the dire daily news
the discomfort of uncertainty
Hold on. Reach out. Breathe.
Find something beautiful
For a moment be grateful.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal

Really Bad News, She Said

My sister Dorothy has been gone several years now. Jan. 7 was her birthday, shared with our youngest brother (exactly a year apart) and our Grandma S. (He died very young, more than a decade ago.) Here is a poem I wrote after a phone call, one of many poems about her.

1/12/19

Really Bad News, She Said

Dorothy calls

Overload
from my latest
cancer diagnosis
and yours—and
you hold the record—
as we travel in parallel
down this potholed clinical road

Different details
the outcome equally
uncontrolled as we
guess which advice
to take and when
Trying to reason and
follow intuition

Some scars visible
some internal
as each day we struggle
What is this for?
Why am I still here?
As damage accumulates
and the rarer good days

even more a gift
One more conversation
speaking the same language
treasuring the time we have
Even occasional laughter
however dark or dry

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2019

From my poetic journal

Nationwide Protest

For anyone who has been
paying attention
the ditch we find ourselves in
was the obvious destination
all the accumulation
of micro-choices and not choosing
all the heads in the sand
the failure of imagination
And yet in the cycling of everything as it
inevitably does, time moving along
this too shall pass
And the days ahead
will be shaped by what we do
with what was given
with what words are spoken aloud
Do not despair
it is not hopeless
I will admit
it is monstrously dark
but now you can see
all the united pinpoints of light
gathering in the crowded streets

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal,
written after the first “No Kings” protest in June.

Spheres of Influence

(Conversation during surgery with Dr. James Lahti)

The smallest sphere
over which you have some control
some potential influence
is close around you
like an ample balloon skin
In that sphere it is possible
someone might listen
(like you, even)
might pay attention
be swayed, persuaded
by your passion or conviction
might choose to change

The next sphere out
a bit larger, more diffuse
more indirect, you may still
affect the outcome
Your intensity, thoughtfulness
your clarity, honesty
can elevate the energy
enough to shift
something, someone

Start where you are
do not wait for perfection
Do what you can
Breathe. Rest often

The biggest sphere—
over which you have no control
is most of everything
But with others, in the aggregate
you may move recalcitrant mountains
Alone—nothing. Together—maybe
And in that sphere if you
in your naïve intensity
in your innocent propensity
put all your life energy, your belief
in fairness, the way life should be
you will burn out your engine
spinning your tires until they shred
and you are left with a husk

So…don’t do that
spend all your preciousness
on nothing.
FOCUS
your innate inner light where it can
do the most good in the day to day
Join others who are like-minded
Notice and step back when you’ve slipped
into spinning your wheels to no end

Do it for yourself, for all of us
for now and ever. Amen.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal
9/16/25