...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZeHwynUVxBw&ab_channel=GloriaLaing-Topic

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I imagine it'd feel

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A lot like a rowboat -

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A lot like being taken for

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Some kind of miniature ride,

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Within the confines of

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Some miniature vessel, and at the leisure of

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A lazy inertia, and of a gently tugging tide.

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I imagine there'd be sunburns,

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But I can't yet see the blisters - 

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I imagine there'd be poetry,

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But I can't see yet the rhyme.

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I hope, if anything, and if not more as a consolation

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For the inescapable fact that I can't,

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That there'd be a kind of quaintness to it,

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A kind of bleached joy, a fading calm -

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Like denim, like that which one is reminded by

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When they tug their legs through the familiar shape

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That becomes the torn, dyed, patched, pant legs

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Of one's absolutely favorite pair, of them.

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I hope that you'd be met with that kind of distant sense,

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That implausible and yet total presence,

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That can grow until it's definable by, or recognized,

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As part of a slow, waking-happiness moment -

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Of something cut from the cloth 

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That comprises most family scrap-books,

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Of a photo-album, collaged, with ticket stubs,

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Receipts, hand-written post it notes, napkins,

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Polaroids. 

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I imagine it'd feel a lot like a polaroid;

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I hope it makes a good polaroid.

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Author's Note

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