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.
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?
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