HomeA Poem From The Book (Poem’s visual structure and line changes not always correct).
Then the Further Day
She saw the queen of heaven once and kept the vision in her soul No one believed what she had seen, no one believed what she heard.
-Leonard Cohen
Myth is history we need.
-Jan Zwicky
As if the white wasps in their paper casings
were symbols of wisdom
and so a promise I could trust.
As if the rain falling fitfully on the house-rounded shore
were a selflessness and giving in to destiny
were admirable completely.
As if the land was not to be heard at night pouring winter through itself to Gonzales Bay.
Mornings of white light, my paler self walks the water untethered.
And even before me, Spanish captains with black between their teeth, squiring names – San Juan, Esperanza, Escalante. They could not escape through the residue of memory.
In its time, when it is ready, the ocean turns and sings the calcium from bone until it is no more.
Come on let me hold you, won’t you let me hold you, like Bernadette would do..
