For Once

For Once

We drove into the driving snow,
the night a sea,
the flakes a wake of anemone,
pale tails pulling ahead,
as we trailed, so fast,
from the deep,
as they rushed, even faster,
past reach.

You had to try hard, you said,
not to look at it or you’d
be mesmerized;

yes, I said, eyes trying to scry
the fleeing neon–
mind trying to fit
on metaphor–
it was as if, I thought, time
had let down her hair,
let blow in the wind
a stranded invitation, as if we following
too could be wild and wet
and headlong–

But maybe turn off
the brights,
I said, me the one who has always failed
to take risks
in life–

But–said you who
would mingle with fate in a moment
if it held beauty
on its arm–they actually help me
see the sides of the road better, see
if there are deer–

True, I said, as if you were, in fact, looking out
to the sides of the road.

Then you said nothing,
and I said nothing,
and so, you drove on
into the snow,
the sea,
the vast leading
and me, I rode


Hi All!  Here’s a poem for Marian’s prompt on With Real Toads about the love of one’s life.

Sorry for missed visits and for long absence.  I have been trying, ostensibly, to work on a novel, but in truth, have been taken up with job and family matters, and doing a huge amount of escapist reading–which has been very informative on the novel front!  (So, I tell myself.)   In the meantime, I’ve missed you all much and hope all has been well!

P.S. The photo above is not of the phenomenon I was trying to describe–the snow on a windshield on a dark night–I did not get a photo of it–but I also like this photo, so put it up.  (It is one I took a couple of years ago–all rights reserved.)  

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11 Comments on “For Once”

  1. There can be such sense of adventure driving into the snow late at night.. But I would watch out for deer…the image of the anemone works so well for the snow…

  2. Brendan Says:

    Enthralling moment here, caught up in a fleeting aerie or precipice of being we cannot maintain or endure for long. It’s angelic, something meant for better-dimensioned eyes — to be so “wild and wet and headlong.” Thrilling. The pic is perfect. (Sometimes I’m surprised that I find it so hard to find an image that quite meets the mood.)

  3. Marian Says:

    yes, enthralling is just the right word. very beautiful, intimate, a peek that almost titillates and one can relate.
    signed, one who has hardly taken risks in her life 🙂

  4. hedgewitch Says:

    Both the outstanding metaphors here are arresting, k–the anemones, and the long blowing hair of time–so much beauty and so much natural centering and *rightness* in both, and the make the perfect backdrop for the this poem of love, that thing of risk and beauty, that pulls us along like anemones in the current, or holds us immaculate and self-propelling like the interlacing of heartbeats in the dark interior of a car on a treacherous road. So glad you are finding at least some time and energy for your writing, whether novel or gems like this.

  5. Anonymous Says:

    Such a richly realized episode, k. And what a metaphor for relationships and life. I love these lines so neatly tucked into the whole:

    But–said you who
    would mingle with fate in a moment
    if it held beauty
    on its arm–

  6. Kerry O'Connor Says:

    This episode is so richly realized, k. And what a metaphor for relationships and life. I love these lines so neatly tucked into the whole:

    But–said you who
    would mingle with fate in a moment
    if it held beauty
    on its arm–

  7. Susan Says:

    Love the mood of suspension, regardless of the facts, that drive the two into the unknown beauty. How much, really, do we see?

  8. humbird Says:

    Love the speedy flow of riding the car of time, feeling in the moment, trying to sacrifice the truth to comfort…’But maybe turn off
    the brights,’ and then suddenly stopped by thought of deer….but the habit of inertia won.?…at least you observed and aware of this pattern. ~ Love the metaphor of hair very much!

  9. grapeling Says:

    you’ve captured that distance in the final frame, the silence made deeper by ears and still voices ~

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