Wednesday, December 13, 2006

At the Canyon’s Edge

(A Haibun)

Dancing back from the edge of the abyss, we winked at each other, falling to the dust, laughing at the distance, laughing at the doom of the fall and our own avoidance. We lay in the dirt, amongst the rocks, heels beyond the edge, looking up into the uninterrupted blue above, and the sound of the engines far away was like the noise of mosquitoes, like the pale shadows of glass towers just after midday. Our hands twined together, we knew that things would not continue on like this. These things are perishable, as seasons are perishable, as quick as the flash of serenity across your face before your eyes open, and you are awake again. Quick as these imperfect hands, always holding too loosely, letting you slip by, letting dreams filter down into the well until they are empty.

We rolled together, making uncomfortable and make-shift gambits upon each other’s skin, making the noise of spent breath upon the verge of oblivion, forging make-believe infinities for ourselves as the small planes labored to and from the airport on the mesa. As ever, the great hopes remained unassuaged, unassailable. As ever, the hopes to kill the pain came to naught, twisting like frozen fish hooks inside us. We walked home in sweat and grit, acolytes of the blooded knee and sore shoulder, inchoate in the knowledge that we were frail, incomplete things, that we were incapable of the depth we hoped for and pretended to. Insecure in the understanding that we were human, and young, and not truly in love after all.


At the canyon’s edge

churning water far below

we dream of the fall


Bodies like engines

distant silence swallowing

all aspiration


Seasons divide us

touching, we are yet alone

pretending to love


What we have proven—

inside, the ache still festers

bitter as old snow

11 comments:

MB said...

I like this piece, Patrick, for its passion and frustration, for the yearning and life and pain in it. A good mix.

By the way, I've been unable to comment for a few days, just now aable to again. Thanks for stopping by.

Anonymous said...

This piece triggers many memories. Some make me smile. Some are filled with regrets. The work is,indeed, a good mix.

S.L. Corsua said...

The poetry part is so beautiful. *sniff* You've made my eyes misty. I need a tissue. ^_^

M. Shahin said...

This was very truthful and takes a hard look at what love really means. There is sadness in it of course but I think the truth is so powerful that it leaves more of that imprint than sadness.

You are really good at these haibuns. I admire this form, and I just finished final exams, so I'm going to try one for myself.

Anonymous said...

Like drthunder, this evokes memories both pleasant & painful.
..."inchoate inthe knowledge that we are frail, incomplete..." This phrase is somehow reassuring to me, implying a completeness that will bring us to a more sublime condition. This piece has a melody to it that is very sweet.

Anonymous said...

Perhaps when that completeness comes, we will no longer be daunted by the vast chasm at the rim of the canyon.

Patrick M. Tracy said...

MB,

Thanks for the comment. I'm sorry if my site was standing in your way. I've had some complaints, but I'm note sure what's going on in that regard.

Doc,

Thanks. Glad you liked it. I just tried to capture a moment.

Soulless,

There's no crying in poetry...no, wait, that's baseball. Not that I intended to make anyone "misty". Glad to see you over here, though. Thanks for coming by!

m. shahin,

I'm glad it seemed truthful to you, with elements of both sadness and joy in there.

Thank you for your compliment. I truly appreciate your words. By all means, try a haibun. I find them to be one of my favorite forms.

By the way, thanks so much for coming over to my other sites, as well.

Bobby,

Sorry it was difficult for you to comment the other day. Apparently, Blogger Beta is a little fussier than the old version.

As to the poem, I think that we can be skeptical of the idea that we'll ever be "complete", yet still hold out some grudging hope for it. I guess that's life, right?

Anyway, thanks for coming by, folks. I appreciate your thoughts and encouragement.

MB said...

It was not your fault at all! It's that Beta Blogger wasn't accepting comments from old Blogger accounts... and neither will it allow me to switch yet to Beta. But I figured out the workaround.

Anonymous said...

lovely piece, evoking memories in a mist of life's path...I love your use of simile here. brava!

sage

mystic rose said...

i've read this umpteen times..understand perfectly the words and the feelings..but just cant comment besides that it is so elegantly written, captures the moments and the feelings so perfectly. and hopefully, there are moments too when ...

Patrick M. Tracy said...

MB,

As long as it wasn't my fault...

Sage,

Thanks so much for coming over. Your compliments are greatly appreciated.

Mystic Rose,

I'm blushing. Truly, you give me too much praise. Thanks just the same. I'll take it. (grins)

...and thanks to everyone who came over, whether you posted or not.

Across Inconstant Breath

Would that this skin this frail armor atop the husk of slow departure -  Would that it held against the teeth  of night's maw a...