Well, it’s not like I post poetry every Friday. But still and yet, here’s a poem for your Friday. From me to you. Enjoy. I bring it back from Deception Pass. We spent last weekend there. Three days with no clock, no schedule, no washing machine. Just the light. And the birds, the rocks, the water, the rain, and the sun.
The stones have faded away from the beach
no water to infuse them with deeper tones
but still, I remember.
I feel their cool exterior
place myself there
nowhere to be
wondering what rocks would hold up
which ones to carry home
as reminder of the birds
swooping again and again
not flying for me
but still gifts too numerous to tally
and why I line many pockets
with weighty objects
shot through with lines of color:
green, red, cocoa brown, copper-tainted orange
maroon and that white, that misnomer
made up of every shade,
the only stone that still stands up straight:
the white one.
The rest take more patient looking
the kind of glance I forget to practice
until I notice so many stones
like alters throughout my house
calling, Get up, get up, leave through the front door
until you feel the light seeping
through your forehead into your body
sunlit or grey-shaded, no matter,
the world waits for you to remember
so different than the blue-tones shades of this screen
you type on now.
Leave before it’s too late
to whisper to yourself
that what lasts isn’t you
it’s the tree, the rock, the bird
the conversation you place upon the wind
no words necessary.
-Nancy Schatz Alton