THE HONEY RUN COVERED BRIDGE
I find myself thinking
that I pass through or over time,
in one direction, like crossing
the old covered bridge on my way home.
But time flows
all around the bridge,
like water when the creek rises
—like sunlight and rain;
or the laughter of boys
swimming in the icy rapids.
Inside the bridge, creekflow
and the swish of wind
catch and echo against
This bridge is a sieve of time,
straining the barred light
as it passes through deliberate
spaces in the siding;
capturing shadows of tourists
who wander into history
out of summer.
BACK TO THE CANYONS
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
The sky is a different blue now,
but the same knifing wind I remember
off the high ridges, across alfalfa
fields…. No fields now. Just condos
impervious to weather. Freeway
where used to be the tunnel-road—
I'd canter bareback
after school, I was Lone Ranger,
last of my breed.
On the wind a scent of canyon.
Handful of hay for a big black mare.
Lost years ago.
So small a thing, just a pinprick,
but it itches like fate.
You have no memory of how it came
but it itches like fate—
a premonition, a shortness.
End of summer verging to fall,
a premonition. A shortness
of time, of breath. Could it be
the black widow with her hourglass
of time, of breath? Could it be
the bug that kisses men to death?
You've listened to so many stories—
the bug that kisses men to death…
a chill like winter in its sting.
Lie down tonight with your dreams:
the black widow with her hourglass.
You've listened to so many stories,
end of summer verging to fall.
You have no memory of how it came.
Lie down tonight with your dreams.
This forest—do the trees shine silver,
in a slant of light? Impossible to know,
as if monks were singing
in the language of another world.
I call, but there's no response—just
the image of you beckoning
as you disappear among trees,
oak leaves like gold coins, firebirds
As in cycles of dream,
I couldn't follow you. I search
my pockets for a fragment.
Why does light seem closest
just before it's gone.
—Dillon Shaw, Davis
—Michael Cluff, Highland, CA
Towers can only completely contain
the bodies of people
the rise and fall
of such structures
as it should be.
Thanks to today's contributors. Katy Brown has a new album about the Covered Bridge on Honey Run featured Medusa's Facebook page; be sure to check that out, along with her description of it. About today's TG poems, Taylor Graham says "this is where Brigit Truex's Tartoum led me," and about his poem, Dillon Shaw says, "Here's a matching pair of poems I wrote, partially inspired by the old SOW, 'Argument/debate/dueling poems: two poems w/contradictory ideas.'"