Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Ankle Deep at Dusk

I wrote a song for a band I was in back in the day called Mr. Underhill for which I was the songwriter.  (You're welcome Syntax, Grammar, and Redundancy)  The song was called "Ankle Deep" and had that in common with this poem--it not even having precisely that much in common with this poem notwithstanding.

The song is lost in time amongst power chords and better ones; here is the poem:

Ankle Deep at Dusk 

The lake is mottled, calicoed 
By the oil-slick ooze of poplar
And pine—spill of shadows on 
The crested surface.  Doves
Regret the dark in harrowing
Contralto.  Walking ankle deep,
Pant legs knotted at my shins,
I relish bits of shell like glass.
You thought I was made of stone.
But now, between my sockless feet,
By glints of fractured light,
I notice features of my face
That waver in the lulls and heaves.
I smile and see me smirk.  I nod
And watch me disagree.  So much 
For being solid.  See me now.
Or better yet, remember when
We waded out, up to our necks,
And spat the penny taste of mud
Into each other’s eyes?  
You made a wish for us to stick
Forever in the leafy muck,
Then held your breath and swam below.
The final crimson lobe of sun
Is slipping underneath the blue
Horizon.  See it now. And hear
The dove’s adagio refrain.
Come up for air and look above
The trees.  A cuticle moon glows
As two.  One hinges on a late
Arriving cloud, the other smiles
And smirks on this spilt lake of ours.

(first appeared in Weave, Issue 9, Summer 2013)

1 comment:

  1. "that waver in the lulls and heaves" best line. beautiful picture. real memory?