9 months ago


Night-vision (From the

Night-vision (From the porch) A half-hearted moon stands still out there beyond the sycamore, wearing traces of the leaves’ calligraphy. Only the distant swoop of cars disturbs the silence. But now, a far-off dog begins to bark and children’s muffled laughter canters by, riding on a sudden breeze. Darkness falls free from time constraints; it could be ten o’clock or any hour up ‘til dawn: it’s hard to tell. wonder then that ghostly memories awaken in the night and settle down beside me on the porch, like children tumbling in from play, demanding strict attention.

I wander through the back and forth of other years, my childhood fears, a long-forgotten argument, the taste of someone’s kiss. Then all at once three friends appear who died within a month last spring and yet . . . Birds still come to feed by day and squirrels display high-wire feats, unaware of age and death; they simply live, while I seem to need the night to rock along the edge of time and space, where boundaries blur, like silhouettes of trees against dark skies. ~ ~ ~

Spring Ezine_02_20