Cibola 3

This entry is part 3 of 119 in the series Cibola


I’m serializing my book-length poem. See Section 1 for details.

Beginnings (cont’d)

I awake in the dark and shake free
of sheets & blankets, of down-filled
quilt. The rituals of waking–
the long, hot shower, the coffee–give
my mind the chance to keep drifting,
let memory make what it will
of the contours of sleep.
Oddest of all are the dreams in which
one awakes, forgetting all rituals.
And it seems normal to go out naked,
for instance, in the middle of winter.
The snow’s alive, remember?
It ripples, blue flames slip
through the trees like fish.
I feel fur sprouting all along my spine.

Series Navigation← Cibola 2Cibola 4 →

2 Replies to “Cibola 3”

  1. I love this…”the snow’s alive, remember?” We have a rare settled-in snow here, and the roads are impassable. This helped me feel into the breath of the snow and ice more fully. I love what I’ve read of this series thus far, by the way.

    1. Cool. Thanks for commenting. I am, as you might have gathered from my remarks on Facebook, quite thoroughly sick of Cibola, but I do realize it’s got a lot of good lines.

      I’m looking forward to your snow photos!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.