poetry

23 October

23 October

all day I’ve been silently slipping
in and out of thoughts of you
your birthday ingrained
in my internal calendar
like my first address
a prime number

I still don’t know
what I was supposed to learn or do
what I was asked to give
how I should have changed

no one speaks of any of this here
alone I settle into
the deep confusion
your memory rends
like the sucking fountain
where the towers once stood
the darkness going down down down
deeper than light can go
into a silent still chamber
where no answers wait

after a time
I begin to ascend
glimpse the 3 warm pink bodies near me
throw my grappling hook at any and all
haul myself into sun
with enough strength left
to mumble
thank you for the alphabet soup
that brought five of us
into the light

poetry

Orionids: Lake Poso

Orionids: Lake Poso

on the dock
in the dark
I stretch out long
let the robe of stars
fall over me in folds

without seeking
I find him
the Hunter
a midnight visitor
from the familiar north

here out over the black lake
he’s different
not just a belt and shoulders
his features finally fully come into view
and for the first time
his bow is plain
clutched in his left hand
aimed over the water

before I can settle in
he fires a long streak across the sky
bright enough a trail of light lingers

I wait what feels like a long time
but the sky stays still

thankful for being at the right place
at the right time
for that one volley
I stand to leave
get my bearings on the railingless dock
then search the sky one last time
but fail to find his form

wondering was it dreamwork
a trick of the watery air
I turn back to shore
and he greets me again

of course:
prone, I realize,
I craned my neck
and found him there behind me

everything’s just as it should be –
pure magic

poetry

the joy of being sedentary

the joy of being sedentary

sitting still
in one place
going nowhere
doing nothing
being here
we discover
the sandpiper’s
loud whistle
and surprising
boat-gunwale
perch

poetry

ice: traveler’s temptation

ice: traveler’s temptation

the slick angular cubes and prisms
beg a tongue to lick and linger
to feel the polar opposite
of oppressive equatorial heat
thick with humidity, deferral, languor

don’t think about the risk
the bubble-studded beauties plead

and we weak temperate beings
succumb to their promise of cold
berak-berak be damned