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Ruth Lera

Day 13 And again time catches me by surprise My memory worsening by the millisecond Except for the old memories The deep wounds The ones that make me question everything Anahola Sunrise Patrick Dixon These ones are fresh Juicy and brilliant Salmon berries shimmering in the afternoon sun Eric le Fatte And when I pick them Their innards spill On to my tongue The tears rolling Where the pain hasn’t gone stale At the beginning the sea stretched The sea that fell So far beyond the horizon and slept as a glacier I didn’t know where to go next to the sky And now at the end I only have a slight sense of navigation has become a waterfall. Down a canal where the boats stream out and Each snowflake arm Where a truck waits melts to become And humanity connects the world a separate liquid face. I will welcome it all They tumble like angels With the same desire and apprehension who have chosen Neurosis and uncertainty That has followed me everywhere to be human, wash My shadow my oldest friend a week of dust Holding my hand through it all from our clothes, When I embrace her she shatters rinse our hair and leave us But when I turn my face to the sun she returns on granite slabs to dry. The drenching warmth calling her forth We watch the ones above Next to me plunge in parallel paths Reminding me about all the darkness that is true and wonder how often And I want her here with me in my kayak the pattern repeats. And in my car We track the cascade below And in my bed follow a certain course Wherever I go to the lake in the basin But when I become her where we will sleep. I am crushed by her weight A heavy stone holding me under My shadow and I paddled to the ice and back And we will continue across the border and over the tundra and through the trees And when we get home we will settle down To the real true work Of telling the world we are here

The Waterfall above Hart Lake

Cirque, Vol. 7 No. 1  

A Literary Journal for the North Pacific Rim

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