We Sit in the Middle of a Soul Pond
Valley from Bellows Free Academy. St. Albans, Grade 12 says of the poem:
This poem is based on a the meshing of a few memories, mostly regarding love and the peculiar places I've found myself this summer, but also of specific pinpoints of this season. I wrote this while watching fireworks at the edges of an enormous field.
a man and his little son walked out across the river
barefoot and I saw them there
That is what it feels like here, like we are on sand
and the river has come washing us into isolation
I ask Do you believe in ghosts
and you answer Darling, we all come back sometime
Just look at you.
I recall winter when we sang
conflicting cricket tunes
migrating in polar capsules that looked but never touched.
I don't touch you now,
though it is difficult with this wind
and these crickets in our pondearthpond world
We are alone in a grass ocean and I want to
feel your hands
ask Did you always know it?
And answer Rebecca, you can feel spirits in the air.
You never left.
Tell me that you'll visit
after you leave
That we are some spontaneous gene menagerie
full of soul tunes
programmed by energy currents and river air to kiss
and like it too much to drift away.
Tell me that I am just a girl underneath
with a spirit that touched yours once.
We make star shapes in
Pond earth grass ocean. Tonight
I can feel you in the air.