Tuesday, August 02, 2016

Tuesday poem #174 : Kristina Drake : Line of Trembling

Aspens, a trembling curtain shimmering beyond the kitchen
window, between my dishes and the precise house
next door – I am whaching                                (oh Emily, oh Anne –

This sleight of truth is not a trick
of light; patches glinting
in the mirror, not reflection –
the insides peek out.
At my temple.
Around my eyes. Also my armpits and groin.
I am fading, vaguely,
at the edges of my mouth -- words blanche, pale,
unformed and unvoiced.
The truth places, paces there
as if it must – must -- show me
the trembling inside.
I am shimmering imperceptibly
Into an aspen creature at the edge of –
Truth? – This border
changed, barely, visible. It has a name – I am not
unnamed, only shedding pigment,
baring discoveries and nerves. Am I (over) exposed?
A photograph, captured. These parts
where courage failed or grew or became
less – if only in certain (uncertain) light. Paling,
I tilt my head to see.

Kristina Drake writes and edits in the wilderness around Hawkesbury, Ontario. Lately, she has been distracted. Her poems have previously appeared in Carte Blanche, Soliloquies and Yalla!, and as an above/ground press broadside.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan

No comments: