Memory

In these dusk fields, umber shares
no reassemblance with shadow,
- though the French label them the same -
only with the oncoming night.
Each house seems jewelled
with a sapphire square of swimming pool.
And I am out of place
as I dream of you again, a memory
narrowing that nightmare of my sleep.
Always in this land, I almost glimpse you,
in the black hair or delicate features
of your maternal roots.

Reviews

[MAC]

i like this...a picture card trail to what burdens you. what burdens you flashes out in your dreams in which you still deny it. great write!!

after reading it a few more times it struck me that with a little bit of stretching your words and my imagination that this could be about how Mother Nature feels each during dusk. like i said stretching it a bit. anyhow, very nice!

[Ken Simm.]

Wonderfully evocative. Personal history and dreamscapes.

[Siddhartha]

Oh, I agree with Emily. This is a jewel, absolutely. That sense of deja-vu, the spiral nightmares - constantly zeroing down - and the fleeting repetitive glimpses. This enchants over and over again.

[Aidz]

like the soft delicate feel to this,almost wistful, good write

[Emily B]

this is a jewel, so beautiful