Sunday, March 2, 2008

Sunday Night and the Feeling

Sunday night and the feeling I'm trapped within the context
of our current war I thought I could prevent with a poem
written to my former Sequoia High School buddie,
Ken Claire,

after losing him to Vietnam.

Though close to forty-two years ago,

I have not forgotten the motorcycle
ride on the backroads as we cross
the Pacific Coastal Range in half-light,
giant conifer shadows, deepening,
as we wind toward San Gregorio,

Half Moon Bay.

The poem is to remind me of what persists:
waves breaking on the shore,

sandpipers running the rim of the ocean
as though to stitch and restitch

what has torn,
and memory that does not vanish
with the dawn.

1 comment:

larkswindow said...

"stitch and restitch
what has torn,
and memory that does not vanish
with the dawn."

Yeah. I feel like this sometimes.