Dear C/I Dreamt
last night ice boxes danced down
coal chutes/autumn’s jaws opened to
release/a windfall of leaves and we
somersaulted into a sea of ethereal events
do you remember the CPR rhythm to
resuscitate your laughter on Haliburton
dock/me chasing you into retreating tide
one Nova Scotian summer night
how I cried when L & M were born/
perceived no other joy beyond
the realization unfolded time had paused
a moment/before resuming to morph
I write notes in Sauble sands
this spring day/I have become
a book/pages well-thumbed by experience
and downtrodden hope
I awoke at three wondering if
a beach dreams highlands/hears the faint
conversations of its voice
riding winds falling from
those glacial/urban/pyroclastic heights
1 comment:
I hope I am not duplicating this comment (shrugs her shoulders) but--I think "a beach [must] dream highlands/hear the faint conversations" and so must you. One of my favorite recent lines is from "A Forgotten Conversation We Must Have Had" and it's "the pebbles
and sand retain a fading memory of having been/at a place and at a time."
C.
Post a Comment