Blue light, then red, then blue again.
The street looks wet,
fair slicked in darkness,
but my bare feet kick up dry stones.
Pebbles skitter over curbs,
implant themselves in callus,
and I flick them clumsily away
with forefinger.
They have splinted his left leg.
Clotted traffic pools uphill and down.
Just yesterday I ran a mile, then two,
and then another,
the longest run in months,
and mourned a bit
at the run’s end.
Best not to push one’s self.
This sense of splintered shin a sign,
these aching femurs,
impact upon jolt,
Earth rising up to strike.
It is the final blow that does the harm.
A love fractures;
the shards hit the street.
How many such blows can a heart take?
They push their hands, heels down,
into his chest.
A formality.
There is no urgency, and
the ambulance rolls slow away and silent.
Tomorrow I will run in daylight,
will run as Egret hunts the creek,
as White-Tailed Kite
hunts motionless above the marsh,
but tonight the owl
hunts souls above the street.
Her silent breast
reflects blue light, then red,
then blue again.
Beautiful, sad poem, Chris.
The final image of the owl as reflected/spirit ambulance - yes.
Wonderful. Your next book ought to be a collection of poetry.
{{{Chris}}}
It’s a hard time of year to feel like that - I should know, my breakup of a 7-year LD relationship happened this time last year. Fortunately, I hadn’t lost a dog the year before.
Perhaps you might consider a K9 companion for your runs?
[OMG, I hope that suggestion doesn’t offend you. If so, I completely apologize…]
I wish you were around here - I have a good friend with a insane dalmatian puppy who could use the exercise (both the friend and the dog).
No worries, sravana. To tell the truth, if divorce wasn’t looming, I’d quite likely be dog shopping.
For at least seven years my neighbors have been asking for a pedestrian-controlled stoplight at that intersection. And the two city council people who showed any interest in the notion were the two the fucking yahoo bigot population of Pinole voted to recall.
I love the creek. I love most of my neighbors in the immediate neighborhood, this house, my garden. And yet there is that part of me that’s relieved that I won’t be living here much longer.
well, shit. poetry confuses me, and i try to not read too much in because the ambivalence of the medium means i might be wrong.
i’ve only met you and becky once in person, and i like you both. of course, i know your voice better. but i also sense how very much you have shared together for a long time. no advice, but wishing you all well.
This poem really touched me, maybe because I’ve felt something similar recently. Just so you know, you are in my thoughts, and like kathy I am also wishing you well.