LOL -- that was in a chap book
of unfinished or let's say
shards of lines from a few years
ago that I kept
and I messed with it,
remembering the metaphors,
the knife is her tongue,
the dog was puppy love or a relationship or something,
snakes were jumbled twisted
thoughts that were a mess,
some painless-harmless
some poisonous............
here's another set of lines
to play with....
in midst of mist,
floating water,
drowning my vision,
so serene as if were a dream
lucid thoughts liquid.....
and I can't remember what sparked that.
and finally a Scott Poole classic
(he's from Spokane- got one of his books)
The Purpose of Memories
When I was six
I stared up at a tree in my parent's backyard
and thought . . . I want to remember
that fir tree forever
just to see if I can do it.
I'm thinking of that insignificant tree
right now. I still see row upon row
of its green spiked wings
growing smaller to a point
against an oncoming storm.
Sometimes in dreams
that tree falls on me
and it's not terrible, it's comforting
like the warm pressure
of my young daughter,
bouncing on my stomach
after I lie down on the floor
to straighten my sore back,
so I can rise again
tall in her memories,
so she'll remember me
years from now,
while watching her son
carve memories from the sky. |
