Poem in Progress: ‘THE TRAIL IS A TANGLED PLUMB LINE’

No “From the Vault” post this week. Instead, a recent draft of a new poem I’ve been working at.

Enjoy.

THE TRAIL IS A TANGLED PLUMB LINE

-Frog Pond Trail, Halifax, NS (May 2011)

          

most days, you’d allow this deadfall’s a sloppy forgetting;

a worm-holed apologue of our letting ourselves off all too easy,

once more.               the pond? it’s staid, sheer, and sure; a stern,

sheet-metalled backdrop for this trunk-mined strewn stage, save

the odd raindrop or mosquito’s hopped landing that pock-furrows

its near implacable brow, suggests a wry winking at the folly

we’ve wandered right into, cue perfect.               we walk, here.               still,

pea gravel tsk-tsks each scuffled new step, sighs a fine dust;

greys the laces you kneel – now and then – to bother, to cinch, to re-tie.

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