Semicircle (or) The Arc of a Shore
I would hold you closely
in the confines of a nightmare
We drift towards hollowness
not a mention of
empty pools of light
Preserved above a kitchen counter
rations for winter the neighbour wears
bloodstains on a woolen
suit jacket vest and acrobatic
memories I hear you leaving
The night spirals spins in
a blue blistered sky lightning
arterial unprepared
A storm’s thumping
diaphanous reflections scenes
of nonbiodegradable plastics
scattered along shorelines
Visions pool from entwined hands
perennial garden growing roots
thundering acoustic strings
One hundred avenues on city maps
imploding inside
the scars of love We
speak too boldly trauma
triggers forest excavation
Species of plants protected
sacred in a museum display
like signatures on famous letters
Signifiers of impermanence Visions
of impermeable moss
ink-drawn stamins the crosshatch
asemic wallpapers An artist’s
delicate bowing of bass oars, rowboats,
Victorian hats, an accretion of impulse
As if we could catalogue
the energy of our earth
We borrow but never return
what we borrow
and should return
to return in kind
Robert Frede Kenter is a Canadian-based, multi-pushcart nominated poet, a writer of prose, a visual artist, a grant recipient (OAC, Toronto Arts Council) and the EIC/publisher of Ice Floe Press (www.icefloepress.net). Widely published, Robert's work can be found in journals, books, and anthologies in Canada and internationally. Twitter: @frede_kenter.
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