Sunday, February 3, 2013

A Poem by Doug Bolling

Just There

Summertime in field pond.

Water moccasin drowsing
under stone bridge.

Water lily parade, algae
pond scum providing
the tapestry effect.

It's 90 degrees and we swim
in half trance
memories sluicing into
present time then

We are actors in a film
being shot by
invisible cameras.

Beginnings ends the reels
slithering on and on.

We dive to bottom and walk
the mud floor past

turtles barely noticing.

Tough to resurface and begin
all over again.

But Joanna I say.

Did we come to this.
How do we climb out and
twist the calendar
into some sort of

Where our love,
our carefully crafted words
of a somewhat I-Thou.

Joanna saying only:

we don't know whats around
the next corner,
don't know what we;ll find
if we come here next winter

and scratch for what we
left behind,
what we lost here.

If we light a fire,
which way might
it blow.

Doug Bolling's poetry has appeared in Poetalk, Blue Unicorn, Tribeca Poetry Review, Hurricane Review, Indefinite Space, Illuminations, Iodine Poetry Journal and Convergence among others.
He has received three Pushcart Prize nominations and currently resides outside Chicago in Flossmoor, Illinois. His poetry has been both experimental and traditional.

No comments:

Post a Comment