My canoe
slips silent
these silver streams
I traverse
tall grasses
halfway to dreams
I dreamed
a cavernous theatre
where people bid
on others’ colourless goods.
Neither selling
nor buying,
I gripped a framed photo
of someone else’s child.
Then rang
a dinner bell
or a warning.
We carried our
own chairs
shuffle forming
a crowded single line
near the double handled wooden door.
And someone
from far away,
a voice I thought I knew,
shouted stood unbalanced unsteady
waving two open hands:
“before leaving, each one of you
must take and hold me close—-
I am Old Soft Familiar
your fellow (wo)Man”.
Remember! the voices cry
but who anywhere
could possibly forget?
Across the country
I heard the deafening shots
On that day now 25 years past
You were me—-
woman studying
head down
future in focus
prime systems vibrantly alert
hardly expecting
that moment
when all evil
somehow found you
extinguished
your bright beautiful brilliant
light.
Moments unexpected
quiet ones
more stir than startle
a breath or blink
a between.
Pause mid-step—
my Elixir.