top of page

Alluvial Changes

The delta stills in this shallow curve,

silt brown water under a blue sky,

no reflection of sky like the ocean,

no reflection of pines like a lake,

the underwater slope so gentle

that the wakes of boats only softly

make the river’s mouth rock and shimmer,

with its black and gold lights,

reflecting only color, no images.

 

Here the river, old, slow moving,

shifts- not yet ready for the sea change.

Not yet ready to leave the delta behind

for the depths of salt water.

 

The murky water must be walked into

to be known, toes exploring silken mud,

rocks few and far between, and smooth.

I stand ankle deep in the water

and cannot see my toes,

then sit in the warmth up to my neck,

giving only as much of myself

to the water or the sun as I choose.

And then, the sudden drop.

 

                                                                Published in: Poetic Medicine, John Fox.

(New York: Tarcher/Putnam, 1997.)

 

 

 

 

 

I attended one workshop, then another by John Fox. He emphasized reading and writing poetry as a path to healing. As he was interested in establishing ongoing workshops in the San Francisco area, I offered my new home for regular meetings in the East Bay. It was in those workshops that I made dear friends- Barbara McEnerney, Cynthia Campbell, and Maggie Morley.

 

Written a short time after Eclipse, the poem in a previous blog, Alluvial Changes was included in his book Poetic Medicine, where there exists a description of the prompt at the workshop Living with Change, Rekindling Intimacy in the section called Transitions and Journeys of Solitude.

 

Alluvial Changes recounts part of a trip to the Sacramento Delta with my then lover, Roberto Armando Ybarra. Knowing him was the closest I will ever come to having an Anne Carson Herakles in my life. He met the world with open arms, in return it responded to his charisma. I’ve never met anyone so uninhibited. Over time my goals became different from his. We became a matter of convenience for one another.  I moved out of his apartment.  The defining moment on this trip was a solitary one glowing with sunshine. Light fascinates me, always in motion, always changing. This may be the closest I ever come to capturing it in words.

 

When Poetic Medicine came out, I got to experience all the pleasure of a publication party with none of the expense, none of the demands of publicity. I remember how happy I was that my poem appeared just after Jane Kenyon’s “Peonies at Dusk.” The text includes an interview with me. It explains my poem in a way I want to avoid with this blog. I trust the reader make/find their own meaning.

 

 

Recent Posts

See All

Threat of Drowning

The sea spits him back out at the end of each long day spent lobstering, just long enough to sell the day's catch and fill the house with...

Comments


© 2023 by Ms. T Powered and secured by Wix

bottom of page