Saturday, April 10, 2010

Poetry Becomes You

For those who don’t know
Haiku from pentameter
Should be something
Itching in the mind
A blip on inner radar
A rock on the path
Tripping you hard
Into elsewhere

Slicing memory
Sticking behind the eyes
Shoving you from the familiar
To a strange perspective
Suddenly, utterly, your own
All of this a poem should do
All of this.
Or none

Some poems simply are.
Their words whisper only for you
Entering softly, unseen
Taking horizon within
Altering forever

Poetry becomes you.

all day the snow fell

All day the snow fell
Staying in the quiet places
On northern slopes, deep, shaded
The rest vanished into the sodden ground
As your words vanished in the air
Only their cold lingered

Is that what you believed?
Truth could change and none would know?
Love could be unchangeable
Trust could never be lost?
You believed you could lie to me

Snow touches faces, melting into tears
Hot salt, cold ice, all becoming one
Did you know I kept your letters?
Did you ever pause, watching the sky for a change
Did you believe no storm could touch you?

By dusk it was rain, gray sheets, like a shroud
Your words were ashes, the last curling in the fire
I walked away.
rain around me like armour
Snow remaining in the hidden places as a shield

When night fell, the rain ceased
Stars in my future
And you in my past.

Spring always comes, the sun always rises
The truth remains, shining.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Holly, Dreaming

Holly, Dreaming

Holly was my dog for almost 17 years. My dog.
My first dog, Amy, was in honesty my Mom's dog... although she spent endless hours with me, if given a choice, it was my Mom she curled up with. And Toby, my second dog, who spent his 13 years adventuring with me, was first and foremost my Dad's dog. From the moment he saw my Dad, he essentially turned to me and said, "I'm with him." He rode in Dad's plane, Dad's boat, Dad's car -- leaning close against Dad's shoulder and wearing his baseball cap, inspiring local gossips to ask who was the blonde driving about with Paul. While Toby always came to sleep next to my bed, he rose very early, climbed the stairs and sprawled across Dad's bedroom doorway, to be sure Dad didn't leave without him in the morning.
But Holly, from the day we met and she crawled into my lap and fell asleep, was forever my dog. The dog of my heart. She left me last July, and her eulogy is posted on the Bondi Resort Blog.

Holly, Dreaming

Dogs dreams of chases

Who can believe

Such intensity, such focus

Scrambling paws, small barks

Dogs dream in rich landscapes

Dogs dream of chase


The delirious joy of running

Dogs dream of cats

Ascending trees.

Of rabbits, wind-fast

Dreams thick with remembered scent

The moist soil scrabbling away from paws

The glory of speed

Cats sleep near fires

Squared off, silent but for purring

Motionless as sphinx

And as secret

But dogs with aging eyes, old joints

Sleep with more intensity

Running down the air

I like to think I am in those dreams

A bond so ancient,

First dog at first fire,

Dreaming of first hunt, with first person

Cat will not say, ever.

But dog makes small noises

Calling me into her dream,

‘Come quick, come see!’

Tail thumping on the rug,

Remembering joy,

Times shared,


Dog dreams with such happiness

I like to think I am in those dreams

Posted by Nancy at 8:19 PM 0 comments