Sunday, August 21, 2005

What I remember from Kinikinik Lake



Sandpipers in the
shallows, their drinking straw thin
legs like invaders
from far off planets to the
nervous minnows underneath.


The headlights fade out,
Keith Jarrett’s trio doesn’t
come out of the old
truck’s speakers, the ignition
key drops into my blue jeans.


Only me and the
wet roadway, wind and tires
as I ascend to
hidden lakes and the craggy
old bastion made of pale stone.


If there were kites we’d
fly them high against the pale
blue of earliest
spring, red diamonds rising
wild, like how we felt then.


Mud and chill kept us
honest enough to our clothes,
but the trees witnessed
those marvelous things we had
in mind on days like that, love.


The night went fully
dark, the sound of the elk loud
against the calm as
they splashed and hooted in the
shallows, unafraid of me.


The tears in my eyes
won’t fall tonight, but burn
like salted acid,
and I learn that friends do pass,
as all things pass—into dust.


This part of life is over,
no more lake, no more stone wall,
contemplation here
a luxury of youth now
shuffled off into silence.


Mushster said...

At lease memories don't turn to dust huh? 4, 7 and 8 ~ yes, yes and yes but you probably would have guessed that anyway. :)

drthunder said...

Wonderful imagery. I found myself re-reading if over and over. As mushster stated, memories don't turn to dust, and it's obvious that your memories are powerful and everpresent.

Stranger Ken said...

drthunder says it for me, too. These are brilliant. Completely wasted on rhinos!

Firehawk said...


Those poems have a theme of sorts, so I can see why you like them. Thanks for coming over, and don't worry that I "already know" what the readers will think. Generally, that's not my first thought. I'm usually into the process of writing first, and only start considering what people will think when I'm about to post.


Memories, thankfully, don't turn to dust. They do fade, and become saturated with future thoughts and concerns, so that they may not be quite what you remember. That's why I titled them as they did. Things that I don't remember might very well have been better, and more accurate to the moments in time.


Surprisingly, rhinos have a great sense of rhythm and poetics. People give them too little credit. While their eyesight isn't so good, their hearing is acute. Anyway, people dedicate poems to other animals, like ravens and doves. Why not rhinos? They're much more unusual and rare than most birds. Just a thought.

Thanks for coming over, everyone. Your comments always make my day.

jaylin44talon said...

damn good blog, check out mine, comments always welcome!

Firehawk said...


Thanks for coming over. I visited your blog, and it looks to me like you have your comments turned off. You may want to check that out if you want people to leave their thoughts. It's too bad that people will do something like dump foul garbage in a park. Human beings are really jerks sometimes. Anyway, glad the guy was caught. Come back anytime.

Stranger Ken said...

I bow to your superior knowledge of rhinos!

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