Just a bit northwest of here, fear and mosses
Formed thick, plush, variegated mats
Of greens and subtle oranges on the rocks
That showed themselves also capable
Of pink, buff, and black where they showed.
Without fear there is no travel and without
Travel--that is, difference, change--no time.
Where were we headed and when would we
Arrive? Every dance is a side step away
From the only precipice that exists, nonexistence.
We moved, body and company, sans daughter,
In a car, east and east and east, meaning
To rendezvous with a wish that could
Have come from the lost life of a past wife,
Could have and did before she drownded,
Never to be granted. The lakes used to be
Greater and before that they were ice.
We stood on a bridge in a decaying port
Looking south over the greatest of the last,
Watching young Metis women, singly
Or in pairs, push strollers with sunken babies
Down the sidewalks near downtown, to where?
You have to ask whether you existed, you do.
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