Nocturne with a Line after Kees
I close my eyes and see nothing but rain.
And after, take pity
for what turns beyond sight: the wretched
flower, a hiss from the road. Last night the wind
stole sleep from my body,
leaving me alone, wordless, listening
for her next breath. An alchemist,
I transmute the memories of old wounds laid open.
*****
This first appeared in Ijagun Poetry Journal, in December 2013.
O at the Edges 
Felt like that last night, and the night before…
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It creeps upon me, too, on occasion.
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So much of writing and living has to do with alchemy one way or the other. Thank you, as always, Robert.
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Some things are mutable. Others are not. But we try.
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good stuff. it rained here last night. all night. also, thanks for dropping by and the likes.
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I imagine the rain was welcome. I have to check in now and then to see if the jay has returned. No pressure. Ha!
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yes, very welcome. it’s still raining sorta as i type. hopefully, more christmas eve and christmas morning. yes, of course, no pressure. ha!! we’ll see.
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You never fail to deliver Robert.
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Thank you, Talia.
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Wonderful.
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Thanks very much.
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It is raining outside, the sky is gray, I read your poem and closed my eyes. I could feel your poem.
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Which is all I could ever ask. Thank you.
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Beautiful poem. Have you seen the film Le Quattro Volte? Your lines about the wind and more obviously, about transmuting memories reminded me of it. It is a stark, poetic film with very few words- I think you’d like it…
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Thanks, Mek. I have not seen the film, but it sounds like something I should seek out.
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You’re welcome! Yes, definitely find it, watch it and report back with a poem 😊
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Uh oh. Sounds like a challenge.
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Beautifully distilled, Bob.
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Thanks, Cate. Shaken, stirred, distilled…
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I wrote a “50 words”, the concept being based on something you wrote 🙂 a great blog 🙂 here’s what I wrote
http://wp.me/p6tTjj-8F
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Thanks for sharing this. I enjoyed it very much.
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You’re welcome, I wouldn’t have thought of it without your blog 🙂
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Then I’m doing something right!
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Quite something, Robert. This has the hidden sting of a Neruda poem. “The wind stole sleep from my body” is especially painful.
This may be my favorite of your poems, if it’s possible to choose.
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The sound of wind often keeps me up at night, leaving me frazzled at daybreak. I’m so pleased you like this one!
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Beautiful
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Thank you.
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Very unique …I read it over and over and picked up a few different emotions…each time different…I liked it
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Thank you. This one went through many iterations before it felt right.
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