Possession Sound, Whidbey Island, Washington
By Tobi Alfier
Possession Sound, Whidbey Island, Washington
The canyon water ran black,
the driftwood ran gray
on a day when
sky blended into sea
a seamless bone.
Slivered ancient trees.
Lines around the eyes
of wizened faces of locals
nearly worn away.
Old timber,
sharp to the touch,
piled at random
discovered at the end
of an uneven spider-webbed
path.
The lapping of tiny waves
announces a boat.
A fisherman, a net
all the same soft
icy hue.
Memory of an air-mail letter,
an atlas traced with music
softly playing behind
in pale yellow rooms.
Light candles,
listen to the drone
of seaplanes, shorebirds
hopping with schedules
we do not know.
Send books
to houses covered
with ancient vines, the
purpleness of ground
reflected in rot and neglected
beams.
You don’t have to tell
her you love her. All
this gray quiet splintered
silence tells her as if the sea
could spell
and you made this place
just for her.
.
(This poem original was published in the book Surface Effects in Winter Wind)
.
About the Author: Tobi Alfier (Cogswell) is a multiple Pushcart nominee and multiple Best of the Net nominee. Her chapbook “Down Anstruther Way” (Scotland poems) was published by FutureCycle Press. Her full-length collection “Somewhere, Anywhere, Doesn’t Matter Where” is recently out from Kelsay Books. She is co-editor of San Pedro River Review (www.bluehorsepress.com).
As It Ought To Be 