I drove down our road yesterday,
the one that sounds like sherbet
but looks like autumn,
and remembered reading you
while I went.
I think you love to drive;
I see you smiling on green country
and half shaded, looming peaks
as rain consumes your downward way.
You exist between traffic jams,
you fly from simile to poem
like the vanilla spray
on my neck to your nose.
Together,
we dance.
Do you hear that? The shhh of dress fabric,
despite such an ocean
between us? Life breathes
with the wind, and
I listen to the wind,
to the wind of my soul
while dreams press white,
silken horses against your chest.
Please, answer this plea for your return.
You were a compass
to the only rose in the ice yard,
glittering with a still air and the iron
in my blood. Couldn’t you see it, then,
held to attention? I swear I heard you,
“Go north and freeze
your waters into hail stones,
larger than baseballs, suspended
in fog—up and up and up. I’ll climb
the ladder and meet you, one day soon.
I’ll save you from your own
destruction.”
Go north and find me.
I have sought you
in this dearth of your presence
yet it called for the arachnids.
I did not see them come.
Now, cobwebs cover the door
to your silhouette
and I think I’ve lain my waters
before the feet of your arrival, wept
bitter tears of vanilla, and watched
spores feed on sweet moisture. In this,
my heart, the south land only grows
spider webs and mold. You see, I
heard your instructions like FM radio
leaving town. This, my failure,
leaves me stranded, parched
screaming at the sun on desert dunes.
I drove down our road yesterday,
though it could have been last year
when your father’s hawk
brought in the final snow of winter.
I drove down our road, the one
that tastes like sherry,
and found you hungry and waiting.
You were bleeding on the curb
and your profile stared at the river
awash in golden sunlight. There, the leaves
burned in a false fire, shone
in a mountain thermal,
and I felt we were made anew
like shadows before dawn.
Life held us, suspended,
as the day began to die,
and how beautiful it was
along the cobblestones of this lost fable.
Come, let us find it again
and take a walk. Let’s watch
dark water bring in light from street lamps,
clouds rising up to the souls
of those we’ve lost.
Oh look.
A breeze just dipped its toe
in pools of tomorrow. Did you know
your new beginnings
have a way with my heart?
A/N: Quoted lyrics from Cat Stevens' "The Wind." I wrote this for Poppy's third prompt challenge.
About the Creator
Mackenzie Davis
“When you are describing a shape, or sound, or tint, don’t state the matter plainly, but put it in a hint. And learn to look at all things with a sort of mental squint.” Lewis Carroll
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Copyright Mackenzie Davis.
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Comments (12)
As always, this is so lyrical! Loved ‘ you fly from simile to poem’ & ‘ Oh look. A breeze just dipped its toe in pools of tomorrow. Congratulations on placing second in Poppy’s March Prompts.
"I have sought you in this dearth of your presence" This line was riveting! The whole poem was glorious, a wonderful expression of sorrow and longing, but that line in particular is probably going to be running circles in my head for days!
You have a true gift. This is incredible, as always.
Oh. My. Gosh. How do you keep managing to write poems that are so out of this world incredible! I was going to quote your first few lines saying how much I adored them, but then I kept reading and realised the entire poem was that level of mindblowing, quotable brilliance. This deserves to win tons of awards. I want to hear it read from a stage and have lines of it printed on shirts and mugs. Seriously, every single line of this is inexplicably and breathtakingly marvellous. Idk how you do it!
“cobwebs cover the door to your silhouette” I really love this metaphor - it’s one of those that my heart immediately leaps towards for its depth and delicate beauty A really lovely poem MacKenzie🤍
Poetic magic from beginning to end! The seeking of solace is made tangible again and again through your incredibly crafted imagery
Bloody hell. Sometimes I wish I could write like you (don't worry, I know my own worth, almost) but there is just so much lyrical and poetic genius to behold when you do publish stuff. You are just so talented and this was a fascinating and as ever, deeply personal, but with a distance to it, that just makes it universal enough. I loved the line about the road that sounded like sherbert and the traffic jam stuff too. Just too many bloody lines to pick out. I shall be coming back to this. So expect a few more bloody comments. Can you stop being so bloody good, though? Like for real. Though, as you know, I am totally joking haha. Again, topping my favourite with a new favourite, damn Mackenzie, Damn damn damn damn damn damn. Is that enough damns?
Beautiful read Mackenzie! I think as an English teacher, my default position for reading poetry is always to be like “what’s the message, what’s the theme? 🤔 “ and get all analytical. But I’m getting more used to reading poems like this and seeing what sticks out and what comes to mind, which feels like a better idea. “ the leaves burned in a false fire” is a lovely line, and some of the imagery here especially around spiders, water, and death/rebirth is excellent. Getting vibes of a relationship that soured or broke, but the ideas of a new beginning and tomorrow at the end of the poem make me feel like there’s hope for them yet? Or is the speaker lost in memories, as they mention driving down their road yesterday twice, but with different descriptions and feelings? No idea, but I liked re-reading to see what small things I had missed at first glance.
I love how you used "vanilla" twice! Your poem was so breathtakingly beautiful!
No one exists between traffic jams. What a fantastic way of casting this someone ethereal and hoped for.
This was so beautifully written, Mackenzie. I could see this so clearly in my head and feel its hope inside. So many lines but "A breeze just dipped its toe/In pools of tomorrow" is just lovely.
As do the memories of old & yearnings of the present. Wistfully beautiful, Mackenzie.