Untitled Short #1

Standing beneath an apple tree,
I catch the cheerful song of a bird,
and tuck it in my pocket
to bring home for you.

- April-lyn Caouette

Because There are Rainbows

I want you to understand:
     we are all specks on this earth
     which is circling in its orbit
     in a galaxy
     that is speeding through the universe
     which spirals through the fields
     of infinity

and maybe
nothing we do here matters
in the end

we are all specks
     but our atoms are specks, too
     spinning and pulsing in the
     galaxies of our cells
     and mitochondria
     (dear mitochondria)


and all those specks
     add up
     to make our breathing
     smiling selves


maybe nothing we do here
matters in the end
     but while we are here
     we must make meaning
     from the breathing
     and the spiraling
   
because there are rainbows
and because the seas are stormy
and because the spring will return once more
to warm our skin

-April-Lyn Caouette

Introducing: April-lyn Caouette

I met April-lyn at least a couple of years ago, at a Lindy-Hop dance. She is a person I have gotten to know very slowly over the years. Now I have learned that in addition to dancing, she likes to play board games, write and knit. We have had fun playing board games together. I also find her to be an easy person to talk to.

I have read her blog, and enjoyed her poems, so I asked if I could post some here. She said yes.

Link:
Her blog

Snake Swimming

Because it was elegant.

-Jim DuBois

best friends

and so they jumped
off the golden gate
knowing they'd meet again
somewhere
maybe in hell
maybe in a movie
or maybe in a book

like thelma and louise
they were outlaws
but just hadn't broken
any laws yet
except the unwritten law
which says
you must be good girls
you must be bland girls
you must be
life support systems
for the only thing you own
that really matters

and so they jumped
off the golden gate
leaving giant bras
and licorice cats
and fountain pens
and plastic dishes
and old old dolls
and mountains
of things behind them
their legacy of things collected
piled up around them
as the emptiness stayed
inside them...

-Cory Raymond

preparing to leave me

the old, old woman
my friend
forgets to remember
more every day

talking like dreaming---
scraps of what's real
all stirred up
together
with things
that never were

doves in her mind
beating their wings
scattering
the pieces of her life
the sticky notes pasted
on the woman
she once was

she talks
and talks
her strong contralto
now breathy
and wavering

a haphazard tear
forms and rolls
ever so slowly
down her velvet cheek
once artfully painted
now exposed

her pride put aside
her wispy white hair
glittering silver still
hangs lank
and unattended
like a garden
of memories forgotten

she looks at me
closely
and clutches my hand
for a moment
as if to anchor
us to the present

then she tells me
about the friend
she once had
a long time ago
never suspecting
that I'm the one
she's talking about

"oh, the times
we had together"
she says
her eyes young
and bright

i nod and
i smile and think,
"oh, the times
we had together
indeed."

she loves
my memory
but she doesn't
know me
i've been fixed
in her mind
in another time

i mourn her passing
even as she talks on
remembering
forgetting
preparing
to leave me...

-Cory Raymond

sometimes ever after

"This is about a place that my dear friend, Linda Sue, and I dreamed about going to in August, 2002." - Cory Raymond


so they carried their bags
full of rocks and seashells
and their shoes full of sand
home where they decided to make
a magical wall with rocks and seashells
and driftwood and ocean-polished glass

it would not be high, just a demarcation
of their territory
a notice to all that this was theirs
the magic would keep out
anyone who did not possess a key
to their minds and hearts
but would allow entry to all
who aspired to gentleness
who practiced kindness
who spoke softly and let
their dogs carry the big sticks
for them

cats of every color
would sit on the wall
and sleep on it
and sing on it at night
celebrating the moon
and their catness
eyes glowing in the dark
with visions human eyes
failed to perceive
feelings human hearts
could not contain

people would sit there too
sometimes
and drink champagne from
chipped coffee mugs
and talk about
a different world
a beautiful place
and laugh and pet the cats
and hope to live
happily sometimes
ever after...


-Cory Raymond