a story before sleeping

z219993582
-tell me the one about the old, man;
the one who carries the tide in his hands
(this is how i imagine you would ask me
at night when i am tucking you in to sleep)
-innuit man with aurora borealis shining in his hair-
yes, he lives in the faraway north, mamma
-as far north as the barn owl flies-i answer,
i touch your face, remembering its contours
did he fly too, the innuit man?-
-he flies each night take the blackberries back home
for his little boy to eat-
i see the puzzled look on your face
-there are no blackberries in the far north,
he has to sneak them away-
ah– the puzzled look disappears as your eyes begin
to droop
does he love his little boy very much?-
-forever and a half- i answer
what about the key?-
-it is made of bone etched with caribou and opens
secret places made of snow and ice-
(you divorce yourself from waking and begin
to fly across the moonlit ice
with the innuit man who holds the tides in his
hands and blackberries in his pockets
and the aurora borealis in his hair)
ceg 4.12.11
Advertisements

3 thoughts on “a story before sleeping

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s