River Brown

The process of finding forms and setting up for the orientation and intensive summer institute led me through layers of old docs.  I finally found the apprehensions and expectations Bingo doc in a folder in a folder in a folder of backup files from, not the last MacAir, but the MacBook before, which was actually one theft and two crashes ago.

I found what I consider maybe my first “real” poem.  A narrative prose poem.  Since I recently celebrated my birthday at Bodega Bay, I had wondered if I still had a copy of that piece I wrote, perhaps in 2004.  And then I ran into it in the backup files. 

This point in the school year is about endings.  Completions.  Stops.  There are indefinable feelings I always associate with a school year wrap up. This poem has indefinable feeling and is about ending. 

Bodega Bay

The day had been sunny, windy — our two little girls played in sand
Shovels in the dunes and jumping up and down in surf.
The ever silent Steven — watches them at a distance from my hand.
I’m accustomed to an eight year silence yet evening widens the gulf.

My heart has its own longings that ebb and flow without speech
My fasting a tide of empty drowns in thought — I diet to a size three
A meal and bathing then rest for the sea girls frazzled on the beach
I bunked alone, Steven in his shell, I slept by a window facing the sea.

Somewhere before dawn without waking my eyes opened
Showering close, then pressing silently — all the stars were falling
Plummeting through the crepe dome to burn into the sea
Then reversing, I saw them telescope back into place.

Diamond pinpoints over pearl black water — I’m staring
Utter quiet the dark presses on my face gleam and dream
The girls are grown women — and I still wonder
Did stars fall from the sky then or did I?