You Call to Me

Another poem from the new collection. This poem is a little longer than my normal style. But it is what it is. If you are engaged in your own writing, just go with it. Let it happen. Work on it. And then don't bother explaining it. At some point put it out there.

You Call to Me



I.

I know where all the big trout hide.

The trout rush for my line

regardless of worm or fly.

In the vapors of the night trout are Spartans

where I pretend forgeries of gods.

Limestone boulders on the banks

of this aqueous margin.

Rise trout rise, watch me walking

boulder to boulder and pool to pool.

These waters here hint a blackening green.

Trout bodies roar like cosmic flashes,

the stories of time their spark.

This stream a home where I sit and wait,

listen for the narrative of water and wind

where they rub each other in jealousy.

You call to me

the only words.

II.

Through a lonely strand

like a delicate tendril.

There are fish here.

All I hear or all I understand,

the words from your side of the bank.

Never what they are;

they are what I want.

In dreams time steps away

from its dimensions revealing no more

than a conspiracy of watchmakers.

In dreams gravity surrenders

to become that eternal limitless web.

Each strand of the web vibrating,

each strand a delicate cosmic flash.

In these moments

You call to me.

III.

Imagine a strand,

It connects us all.

A filament of spider web

one single strand mono to you and I.

Mono delicate without soup can

to tether our ears or press to puckered lips.

These are dreams.

Dreams where I stand on limestone boulders

and you there opposite on a lighter bank.

There are fish here,

You call to me.