This is beautiful, Janet, and I don't know what to say
in response, since I wouldn't change it and only felt
it. Also, it has that genuine turn at the end, and I
remember someone telling me a long while ago that was
rare, as if the poem exerted its own life, and that
voice breaking feeling and then the (perhaps 'hardcore
heart') turn to that leaf at the end is startling
because it is entirely your own.
best,
Rebecca
--- Janet Jackson <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> A poem I've been struggling with, that I hope is now
> finished.
> I may have posted an early version some months ago.
> Responses welcome.
>
> Evidence
> --------
>
> Only in dream do the children come out
> first,
> lined up, nervous
>
> Only in dream do my enemies look on,
> tittering, nudging in new school uniforms
>
> Only in dream my book's blank leaves grow
> scribbles
> crowding out his name.
> I draw a box to protect it,
> to carry it.
>
> Only in dream is he
> taller. Only in dream
> are my body's arms around him.
>
> Soft against my cheek, his
> tender neckskin, his
> fuzzy handknit sweater,
> smelling sweet and old
>
> Only in dream is he
> silent while I have words.
> Does he hear my dreamvoice against his neck?
> I can barely speak
> My throat is breaking
> "I love you"
>
> In my hand,
> a leaf to bring back to you!
> But surfacing vanishes my scrap of evidence
>
>
------------------------------------------------------
> Janet Jackson <[log in to unmask]>
> Poems at Proximity:
>
http://www.arach.net.au/~huxtable/janet/proximity.html
>
------------------------------------------------------
>
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