Past Midnight: poem

“The lines cast off / we glide….”

In August, Amethyst Review published “Past Midnight.”

 

PAST MIDNIGHT
by Kathryn MacDonald

The lines cast off
we glide through still water
insistent weeds
and water lily leaves.

We slip past sailboats
held fast to docks
by tendrils of black or white
blue or red          lines like thoughts
tethered to mourning and borders.

We venture into the other world
beyond safe harbour
and sense some things
have changed forever.

 

I’d love to know what you think of Past Midnight (and please “share” the link — Amethyst Review deserves reading).

 

Ducks in mist-PEC-sm (1 of 1)
Leaving safe harbour in heavy mist. (The photograph “Zen Serenity” was selected for a juried show, 2018.)

 

 

 

 

 

“Casting Off” one poem-two passions

Seldom do I write cantatory poems, but last Thanksgiving during a week at a Northern lake, my rhythm changed. The poem “Casting Off” feels to me almost like prayer. Out of awareness comes oneness.

Casting Off

    (for Linda)

When mist hangs thick as cloud
blanketing the dark lake
          in translucent veil
          magical and mysterious
walk the damp path
beyond alizarin maples
glistening birch-bark
and hemlock soaring skyward
          rough bark breathing
          moss and fungi
          shallow roots clinging
          to ancient bedrock
walk out onto the dock
feel the quiver of your weight
settle          breathe wood smoke
as the sun bursts through
in topaz glow.

Kathryn MacDonald
Devour: Art & Lit Canada (page 42)

Before the sun burst through the mist, a fisher-guy broke the quiet and entered the cloaked world:

Morning Mist Wahwashkesh L 2018 sm.jpg (1 of 1)

For poems and photos by others, check out Devour: Art & Lit Canada, just a click away.

And please let me know what you think.