If there be loons here,
then, they are hiding,
perhaps in the tall fronds along the shore
where I walk no more
with you beside me.
Once we heard a beaver slap his tail
like cannon-shot,
the birds startling from the trees,
your ears perking up,
wolfish and knowing.
It is lonesome here,
without you,
my old pal.
Yet yesterday, I breathed in
a deep draught of dry, crackly leaves
and, in that moment,
was purely happy.
Life goes on.
We were two souls, travelling.
We are still two souls, travelling,
just on different planes,
and I can't find a loon anywhere,
for solace at Loon Lake.
A poem from 2015, to be shared with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United as this October drops its leaves. That lagoon in Port Alberni is alongside a forest trail Pup and I walked so often through October afternoons.
Such a lovely poem, in so many ways! Naturally, right now I am particularly heartened by, 'We are still two souls, travelling...'
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem, Sherry. I am sure it is lonesome, but Pup is with you every moment you live.... I hope you do see some loons!
ReplyDeleteLoon lake without loons and me without you, but even in absence the presence is still there. Remembering in itself is nice because you're together again.
ReplyDeleteTwo souls traveling indeed. This is so beautiful Sherry!!
ReplyDeleteThis is such a gorgeous poem, Sherry!❤️ I could feel every word!
ReplyDeleteWow.. that was a lovely, poignant poem...
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful poem - true friendship that still survives. A special Pup
ReplyDeleteVery touching.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a wonderful walk, Sherry. I’ve heard of loons and the sounds they make – they sound shy, hiding in the tall fronds. My favourite autumn lines are:
ReplyDelete‘…yesterday, I breathed in
a deep draught of dry, crackly leaves
and, in that moment,
was purely happy.’
I can relate to that!
I see plenty of loons round where I live but I don't think they are the ones you had in mind:)
ReplyDeleteThe sadness of change is so touching in this beautiful poem Sherry.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful poem. And oh, how it made me think of all those that's no longer beside me.
ReplyDeleteSuch sweet memories of your pooch❤️. He is always there with you.
ReplyDeletethis is so touching, and beautiful, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteI do miss the sound of loons... i remember them calling.. and I can understand how they would make you remember...
ReplyDeleteSomehow I suspect that there was solace in writing this poem. It's hauntingly lovely.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautiful, Sherry. At the end, I almost wondered if the loons were taking a moment of silence to pay respects to your missing your great Pup.
ReplyDeleteI think the loons were there watching from a distance giving you a moment of reflection. Yes, you travel different planes but, there is still a deep connection. Beautiful I feel like I was there searching for the loon with you.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. The longing and loneliness in this brought tears to my eyes, remembering those, both animal and human, who have travelled on without me. I dreamed about my mother last night. She brought this poem today to me, I think,
ReplyDeleteThank you, friends.
ReplyDeleteI feel this one in my bones Sherry! Still miss my Sasha--even though we now have Logan--each one has its own personality and life with us it seems
ReplyDeleteLove it! Your 'turn-of-a-phrase' as it used to be referred to (back in the day) is really special in this piece, Sherry … particularly in the opening and closing 2 lines. They confer 'real' authenticity upon the piece. For those of us who have grown up around the call of loons, we know that that is a sound we hold in our hearts all the days of our life … it is so evocative. So there's that. But there's even more to it that that (as if that, in itself, isn't enough ~ smiles).
ReplyDeleteThere is also the matter of the wordcrafting … which is marvelicious. I went searching for the word I was trying to come up with and found: aphorism (a pithy observation that contains a general truth) and yes - I think that's it. The loon aphorisms/observations really are so authentic and relatable and somehow speak to a wise acceptance of 'what is'. All this and not being able to find those loons, is such a poignant and masterful metaphor for loss.
This is by way of saying that what you have done with the loons, here, really sets this poem apart. Off the top of my head, I don't recall, a poem bookended so wonderfully - so hauntingly - well.
I have really 'gone on' here, I know, but you absolutely hit this one right out of the ball park, Sherry. It is so-o-o good.
Wow, Wendy, what a marvelicious comment. Thank you! You made my day!
ReplyDelete