by Kathleen Wilson

I am the wave's front more
in white mist day
where gulls I watched
yesterday flocked
to fantasy of someday
making symmetry of their flurry

you are the white mist day
all gull
the sound of wings
their flapping
against the others and me

heart flapping full
words flush against sand
the distance between wings, earth
and skin hardly a breath
hardly a moment
nothing but waves

in silent rooms
in this space
the rushing
desire for what waking

a wing-tipped tremelo
just under my skin
I keep it in
for fear of disappearing.


Author's Note: Published in Sage Trail, Santa Barbara, August-September, 2009

Posted on 12/21/2006
Copyright © 2018 Kathleen Wilson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 12/22/06 at 06:38 AM

No I don't think either of you are going anywhere. Love the lauguage here, especially fond of, "flush against sand the distance between wings,". Naturally romantic.

Posted by Michelle Angelini on 12/24/06 at 10:13 PM

So many tender, romantic lines in this poem that they all fascinate me. I can hear the wing flaps, set to the sound of a beating heart. S1 sets the tone, but you allow each reader to "watch[ed]/ yesterday flock[ed] to {their own] fantasy of someday..." And with each breath against the sand, wishes and heartbeats melt into one. This sounds similar (but not quite) to a poem I once wrote where I had this vision of being loved in my mind, yet when I opened my eyes, it disappeared. Not so with this poem - it's all real, no fantasy at all. I'd love to see this as POTD - voting for it.

Posted by Shirin Swift on 12/26/06 at 06:53 AM

To me, this poem explores a beautiful spaciousness to be found in the appreciation of ephemora ("wave's front", "white mist", "gulls"). The phrase "the distance between wings, earth/and skin" captures an essential relationship. The last stanza is haunting and a touch ambiguous as to who or what will disappear were the "rushing desire" to emerge fully, flying up beautifully but possibly flying away or too far. I also love the crossing back and forth of time throughout the poem - all in all this poem is dynamic as bird's flying tumultuously yet elegantly & sensitively. A "wing-tipped" pleasure to read! The title is intriguing too, starting off the reading on a condition, holding the reader back from rushing forth through the words too & adding one more layer to everything.

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