THE DREAMING POOL

So many years ago you were far away from me
wrapped up cozy in mother’s warm blanket arms
as awkward as any child
the graceful steps taken not chosen
and the tears of an unknowing darkness
as black as any crow
sitting just out of reach on that taunt electric wire
pulled tight and cutting from pole to pole
across the southern sky
so beautiful at sunset
for that elusive frozen moment
before the dark wings of another insect night
closed its eyes around you and dampened quick
your southern charm.
And Sunday came and Mother wore her hat
and fixed the buckles on your tiny white shoes
and Daddy smelled like aftershave
His neck so strong and clean
standing in his white collar and Sunday tie
But yesterday I saw you full in bloom
with only your eyes to give away that little girl
that folded up inside you as the days went by
and the memories stained your walk and your words
and the movement of your gentle hands
But still it trickles through
--sun tea or lemonade--
within the melody of your laughter
And when you let the anger sleep, I crawl inside you
--the dreaming pool--
and we swim together for all the forgotten days
and insect nights and Sunday tears and hornet stings
and crippled winter sheets of frozen mountain air
and amber golden brown broken leaves cracked and dead
on the frozen lawn
and countless breathes of cigarettes
the ashes and the fire
And when we weave our melodies the dreaming pool is full
and all our fears are quiet for awhile
Underneath you shine your golden light on me and I am warm