Category Archives: water color

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Dissolution

I am sorting, Beloved.

I dream that my sister has drowned
in the ocean. A sailboat went down.
There were others on board.
Two friends ready me to dive and find her.
I don’t want to scuba dive, I am not trained.
I don’t know how to use the equipment.
I am afraid I will drown too.
I see her daughter, who is four.
Her daughter knows from my face that her mother is lost.
My friends say, “You will be able to find her.
You can find your sister.”
“But she is dead,” I say.
“I don’t want to find her.”
I know that they are right, I could find her.
But I might be separated and lost, in the depths.
I don’t want to die too.

I wake up.
The dream sticks.
My friends wanting me to wear a borrowed wetsuit
and scuba gear and go down untrained.
My sister floating in the depths, dead eyes open.
But she has been dead for years, I think.
And this is the sea of dreams
my unconscious
the greater unconscious
everything.
So why isn’t my sister’s body dissolving?
Changing to a skeleton.
A skeleton coming apart over the years.

I don’t need a wetsuit
or scuba gear
to dive in the sea of dreams
I can breathe in the unconscious
I have been to the bottom of the sea
many times before.

My niece is four in the dream.
She was thirteen when her mother died.
I think she was lost to me long before that.
The dream knows.
Her mother was lost to me
when my niece was four.
Drowned.

When the dream returns
I will say yes to the dive
I love the sea and the ocean and going deep
I don’t need a wetsuit
I don’t need scuba gear
I don’t need to find my sister’s body
She is gone
Dissolved
I let my past go.

I have not dreamed of the ocean

since.

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I really don’t know where my sister is, because of the family schism after she died. Are her ashes somewhere?

This poem wanted to be born. For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Who knew?

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Cliff collapse

This is taken on Marrowstone Island, going south from East Beach. The king tides take down sections of cliff and whole trees every years.

The island surfaces in the low tides and the seals rest and sun and ignore the ships.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: collapse.

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Air up high

Sunday I drove up to Grand Mesa, over 10,000 feet. Wow. The aspens gold and the evergreens green and the perfume of the clear air. The high temperature was much lower then in Grand Valley. A sign says that Grand Mesa is the world’s largest flat top mountain and there are hundreds of lakes on top.

And you can immerse yourself in gold.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: perfume.

No, I just couldn’t put up a John Denver song.

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One fell out

This is not as static as it looks in the still photograph. Not at all! This is a happening rock!

There were ten in the bed and the little one said “Roll over! Roll over!”
So they all rolled over and one fell out

There were eight in the bed and the little one said, “Roll over, roll over!”
So they all rolled over and some fell out,

There were three on the rock and the big one said, “Roll over, roll over!”
So they all rolled over and one fell out.

There were two on the rock and the big one said, “The tide is coming in, and we are going to swim.”

These were taken in May of 2023 from Marrowstone Island and the order is reversed. As the tide goes out the island appears and the seals start hopping out to rest, digest and enjoy the sun.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: argument.

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Slick

Careful, careful! That seaweed can be slick as snot and hiding a squelching tide pool. Not so deep that you fall in, but you may fall down and ouch! The rocks and barnacles are not soft.

Along North Beach, on the Olympic Peninsula.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: squelch.

Early morning light on the water.