a seed – a provocation – an invitation – a seed as origin and end – a seed as a vision — I am thinking now, as I care give for my father – of my settler seed – as I hear his stories — if I flip the paper of you my colleagues I may find my settler ancestor stories on the back side – not the lies I was told – the truth of what happened and what those happenings seeded and grew. In our conversation Rose talked of her stories now rising out of the earth of her home having laid dormant over generations. Stories rise up out of where they have been hidden waiting to be voiced and to be seen. A seed in time and place.
746 Red Deer Nov 18, 2022
no one sees you floating
they hold you to the ground with a spoon of soup
fill you with pills from pill packs
will you from your bed …
where you sleep only on the right
with a right arm reaching
a hand
… for another walk
down a common hall
beige
past the room with the lifebuoy
hanging on the door
I wonder which one she is
the sun rose this morning to ask for a story of your mother boiling water on the heater
then ran past this east window till it turned the cottonwood to gold
this early setting sets you barking
patches of thought that have lost their stitches
escape on gasps
as much in
as out
who does the laundry?
that’s not how you use the gas pedal!
dreams lived
untied laces
twinkle pain
your bowels and back scream as you stand
so you prefer liquid and your bed
if we look closer the shadows have disappeared
