Sunday, June 12, 2005

The Last Time

The last time I saw Yosef
we were by the tracks
when I was shoved inside
a compartment
with bayonets.

The swords ripped
part of my sweater
and my shoulder bled.

I did not make it to
camp for I suffocated
crushed between human flesh.

The last time I saw Horatio
we were standing by
the shores of a rocky beach.

I recall the sounds of hooves
coming to announce that
he must depart for the enemy
was getting closer.

The Queen’s fleet
was aligned against
the horizon.

With his new quills
and paper in hand
I had just given him
the night before--
the last night we made love
the mosquito net hushed our sounds.

He promised to return
as hooves splashed
against the shore.
It started to rain.

His ship disappeared
against a thundering sky
or perhaps it was the
sound of cannons
I heard.

4 comments:

didi said...

I think the section with Horatio still needs further tweaking and addition. I remember him best. I will work on it and come back with a revision later on.

d.

Birdie said...

This is lovely. I will wait to see your revision. I love the image of the mosquito net hushing sounds.

Michael Parker said...

I too think this is a lovely poem, D. I like the vivid visuals you paint; the sounds you describe. I was wondering if the use of "hushed" might work instead of "hushing." But again, maybe not. Using "hushing" leaves the impression that you can still hear the sounds of the net. "Hushed" suddenly sounds too abrupt and relegated to then, as if that moment should stay in the past.

didi said...

Okay I revised the second memory. I had written part of that section in spanish and gave it to someone a few months ago.

d.