Isn't he pretty? He was here again today and at last there were four pairs
of wood ducks with him and his common companions. The pair of wigeons
didn't show up today, but they are back! All the way from the breeding grounds
in the far, far, far, still frozen north!
BEFORE THE FIRST LIGHT
It's another dream with no roads, but plenty
Of footsteps. One dark tree, a willow, the leaves
Still affected by the rainwater's wanting.
My body is shaped like a dog,
Lying beside a river, watching the grass
On the other side move. My body moves
In no particular direction.
I lie on my haunches and look at the tree.
Blind to the movement of clouds.
Deaf to the sounds of crow.
The tree is shaped like a woman who's crying.
Her daughter has been hot by a car.
Her leg is broken, the bone snapped.
She is screaming. She is pointing
At her leg and stretching her head back.
A sudden wind and the tree bends. Branches
Stretch against the air, the returning rain.
It is not a woman, but a tree again.
No footsteps in sight, but plenty of road.
BOA Editions Ltd, 1996, page 34
And now it is time for us to write our dream poems.
I think mine will also have trees in it! jhh