She carries with her
That windy January
Winter brings her new
Dunes of shells returned
Today's gift: bloated fish,
beaches, the slip and trickle
behind her voice. It comes down
to water with her, and gathering
unlikely gifts.
something swimmed the lake,
and a parallel something smaller, ever slow
swimming the rough. What,
besides seal, survives this cold.
Perhaps her lawn chair.
beaches, the strand ever
evolving in the lens
moving full
circle, like the moon
that draws her. Perhaps she
will have changed
how she remembers.
to the lake, unlikely shards
of wine swept away to the gathering
place of such gifts. She shelves
another smashed glass waiting
for ceremony to soften indescretion.
lake bottom silt, rain. Hoarding
red glass, turning
edges at the bottom, blood
water pearls for her
children.
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©: 1995 Jael Bietsch
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March 8, 2000