Another "reflection" photo. I took this photograph of the courthouse clock tower reflecting in a pool of water along a side street this Tuesday.
That last hour
caught in a whirlwind
the rumble of past and present
swirled in my head.
Walking the streets of San Francisco
up Telegraph Hill, I think of Sharon.
“Let’s call her,” Nancy encourages,
joining my steps as she reads my mind.
“I want to meet her, we can go for a beer.”
“But it’s been twenty years,” I retort,
as I walked through the cars to my seat.
With a drink in hand, I sit alone,
and watch the towns zoom by,
the train racing toward Seoul.
Why this is my destination, I’m not sure,
except that she has been here too.
Suddenly birds flock to the dogwoods
outside my window.
Breaking into a spring chorus,
thirty minutes before sunrise,
and I find myself safely in bed,
tired from having traveled the world,
my soul bare
and sinuses congested.
-----
This is an attempt to put into a poem (using Bone’s “Three Word Wednesday”) a dream that I had early this morning. I always find it interesting how dreams bring dissimilar people together. I also know that I dream more vividly when my sinuses are congested (thanks to the spring allergy season). Nancy is someone I know here. Although a friend, she not someone I have confided in about past relationships. Sharon was a girlfriend back in the mid-80s. It’s been nearly 20 years since we talked. When we were dating, I once met her in San Francisco and both of us have been to Korea, but at different times.
for more of Sage's attempts at poetry, click here.
Google Sharon. See what she's been up to.
ReplyDeleteAs an genealogist, it is hard to track women down because of the whole name change thing unless you happen to know the name of her parents.
ReplyDeleteGreat photo, and a lovely poem
ReplyDeletenicely done. i've been thinking about posting about dreams too.
ReplyDeleteMurf, I googled Sharon and came up with 65.5 million hits.
ReplyDeleteEd, isn't tracking down women also called stalking? (that almost sounds like a Murf comeback)
Diane, thanks!
Alison, I know this is the second dream I've written about this year--it seems the mixed nature of some of my dreams makes good fodder for poetry
Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI love my dream landscapes, though it's not often I'm able to write coherently about them.
Glad you are writing more poetry. I can always relate to dreams. Or thoughts which are timeless.
ReplyDelete"find myself safely in bed,
tired from having traveled the world,
my soul bare
and sinuses congested."
A very famliar feeling..
I envy people that can write poetry. I've tried and failed so many times. I'm better at prose.
ReplyDeleteYour photo os stunning, wonderful texture to it. I enjoyed the poem too.
ReplyDeleteThe hidden poet in the story teller. I have a few old gir...I mean dreams I would like to revisit.
ReplyDeleteI think it is great that you are getting serious about poetry and writing.
ReplyDeleteDreams never cease to amaze me with how they can make someone seem so close to you again after all those years of separation.
Jane, I read your recent dream piece and it's wonderful--but dreams themselves are not clear (or at least that's the case for me) often jumping all around.
ReplyDeleteGautami, Is it allergy season in India too?
Mistress, your envy must be why you like the Moody Blues--their old stuff having poetry included... "Breath deep the gathering gloom, watch light fade from every room..." But I forgot, you don't like that song!
Crafty, thanks
Paul & Deana, thanks for the affirmation. Interestingly I never saw her,
Dreams are these strange and wonderful little viruses our cerebral hard-drives acquire when we put them to sleep. All the random sorting and partial running of our stored files -- it's most fascinating.
ReplyDeleteLiked your poem!
--and so it goes--
...Rob
I googled Sharon and came up with 65.5 million hits.
ReplyDeleteLOL
Why this is my destination, I’m not sure, except that she has been here too.
Love that line. Another fine offering, Sage.
I've thought several times about beginning a dream blog, just for my dreams, as I forget the majority of them by Noon.
You're modest. That's a wonderful poem, full of visuals that make your reader try to unravel the story in their head. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteMichele says hello,
~S