Thursday, May 19, 2016


Jacob van Hulsdonck, "A Still Life With Wild Strawberries and
a Carnation in a Ming Dynasty, Wanli Period, Blue And White
Kraak-Type Barbed-Rim Bowl, with Cherries and Redcurrants
on a Wooden Ledge," 1620

Unwinding the contents of memory—here I am, in the deep
place, having crept past the horde-guardian who happens to
be my other self. Once, when I was no longer a child, I had a
friend who understood all of what mattered to me, about me,
except my loneliness. How could he? We were so young, and
I never understood it myself. Reading Beckett to one another
in whispers over the phone after midnight, while our parents
slept and dreamt their fretful dreams; the voice of my friend
in my ear, so soft, reading, “If you think of the forms and light
of other days…” And so I do. Now, I tell myself, think of those
forms—and the light is time-lapsed, flickering over a meadow
where tiny wild strawberries grow, shadows lengthening then
snapping back with each shimmering day. I can almost hear a
bird, some forgotten bird, chirring. But that would be daylight;
and my friend and I, we were closest when hidden in shadow.

1 comment:

Dale said...

Oh, that's a wonderful poem.