Alan: On calm nights in late June, the air above the fields is one big firefly dance. Why seek further?
Looking Up At Night
The jet, its wing-lights flashing steadily,
passes southwest to northeast —
the slow grumbling roar trailing after.
A firefly, blinking its more interesting language,
passes east southeast to west to north to north northwest,
rising, saying so much in silence
against the trees and sky.
Nancy: I learned about fish holes, how to build with old salt-hardened wood, how to use the tides to mend a hull, and so much more, truths and tales from a generous and improbable teacher.
A Dream The Shape Of Water
Last night he came into a dream and said remember
he was full of stories do you remember that day
at Head Harbour oh of course I remember and in the dream
we had both forgotten that now he remembers nothing
and so we laughed about the summer we built the smokehouse
about the first haddock I caught how stubborn I was
how the line cut my palm about waiting for the new moon
and hauling the boat off the shore on a high tide
with the dinghy about my big dog swimming behind
the boat in the cold water until we gave up and
hauled her aboard. In the dream he was a man strong
in his back strong in his mind not the man
in the bed who has lost yesterday and forgotten
today so it was too soon to say in the dream, yes,
Ken, I will always remember you handing me
the oar, saying, “Pull!” you will always be there
in that now when the tide takes the weight
and we lean together, braced, and pull.
“A Dream the Shape of Water” first appeared in Urthona magazine.