LIGHTNING CREEK REVISITED

On the wall

Over by the

Smallest window

In this room

Hangs a photo

Of the creek

Where I spilled

Your ashes

A year ago

Tomorrow

I can still smell

the freshness

Of the air

Up there - high

In the mountains

Where you lived

And died, finally

Especially by

That waterway

Where the

Shushing whirring

Of water over rocks

And under ice was

Barely noticeable

Until right up

At the only opening

In the ice –

Its murmuring

Was all that

Broke the silence

That blue-sky morn

That and the raw

Rasping call

Of a raven

After the last

Of your ashes

Mixed with the water

Disappeared

Beneath the ice

And headed

Downstream toward

The Fraser River

And the ocean

Where you

Should long

Be gone by now

At least that

Was the plan

And the hope

For your

Final destination

Little brother

S.E.Ingraham©

11.12.27

WOULD THAT I COULD TELL YOU

After the dust had settled or, more accurately
The ashes, in particular, yours – your ashes

I waited for darkness to descend and left town
Crept back out the gravel road in your truck

Looking for the signs I’d noticed during the day
To lead me back to your trailer; I found it easily

That surprised me a little; I’d only been there once
There was no moon and few landmarks, still

It was as if you were there, guiding me somehow
I didn’t make any wrong turns, found the old mill

That crazy odd looking thing you took care of–
Guarded, I guess – for rent-free trailer space

I wish I could tell you I felt really good about it–
The place where you lived; once I found it

And let myself in, found the lantern and fired it up
I wish I could say it was really homey when

The glow of the lantern filled the trailer
And that even though it was near freezing

It was all cosy in there, and your sleeping bag
Made for sub-arctic temperatures was warm enough

I wish I could say I thought it was a nice way to live
But really, as I sat there on your filthy bunk

Studying your used bottles of oxygen, leaning like drunks
Against the corner of the trailer, and each other

All I felt was chilled to the bone and sadder than sad
And so alone, more alone than I’d ever felt before

I wish I could say you and I were different enough
That I knew you wouldn’t feel like that out there

You and your dog – no wonder you always had to have
Yourself a dog, and treated your dog like family

Kathy, Spike and finally, Simon – they were your family
Weren’t they? After all – when you came into money

That little bit of cash from the government – whose teeth
Did you get fixed? Yours? Nope – Simon’s…just like a parent

I wish I knew you never felt alone or lonely, or for want
Of a better word, isolated – especially way out there

By the railroad tracks in the middle of nowhere
But none of us goes through life without feeling

Like that sometimes, and I think you knew that better
Than most – I wish I could say it made us closer
But we both know that just would not be true.

S.E.Ingraham©

OR, BIRDS AT THE FEEDER

Small sorrows

Ecstasies great

Tragedies incomprehensible

Or, birds at the feeder

Then the questions:

What if? How come?

Suppose it: hadn’t, had,

Wasn’t, was, did, didn’t;

Or, birds at the feeder

And the imaginings -

Picture yourself,

Or someone:

Soaring, laughing, watching,

Dying, slaying, burning

Or, birds at the feeder

The mind’s every kernel

Every germ,

A rudimentary bit

Possibly potential

Poetry, just waiting

To be birthed

Or, birds at the feeder

S.E.Ingraham©