Recording of “The Draft”


The Draft

All memories ignite, he says, recalling
the odor of accelerants and charred

friends. Yesterday I walked to the sea
and looking into its deep crush

sensed something unseen washing
out, between tides and a shell-cut foot,

sand and the gull’s drift, or the early names
I assign to faces. This is not sadness.

Somewhere the called numbers meet.

“The Draft” first appeared in Taos Journal of International Poetry & Art.

9 thoughts on “Recording of “The Draft”

  1. This resonates – “gone” relative to current dimension – anyone’s essence never not somewhere – though I may not be able to touch them bodily, I sense they are “out there”. I am not afraid of my own eventual pull from this realm into another – re-mingling with those previously departed. Although I also suspect the next is no more permanent than the current – that some I’d love to meet up with again will have already left for yet another dimension. Perhaps this is all a party game to ensure we continually meet new souls thus continually expand our own? Perhaps we are all parts of a bigger universal soul?

    Nicely read. Probably you were thinking of ones drafted into military. Thanks for leaving mental wiggle space to interpret beyond specifics.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. The haunting bit is the “early names I assign to faces.” I wasn’t sure why that part kept calling me back, but now I think it might be a sneaky structural thing. Each ideas is circumscribed by sentence boundaries, except for that clause, the “or” conjunction of alternative pointing to a perpendicular flow, or draft, away from the plane of the poem. A little scratch on the surface of this rich poem, anyway 😊

    Liked by 1 person

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