Bewilderhof – 25

February 15, 2015 § 2 Comments

Bewilderhof – 25

Chapter 25
– dust redux

transformation
began with a note
one
shooting off the
edge
of creations blossom
never looking
back
to see how far
the petals would reach

before dimensions
formed in the womb
of the cosmos
it went ahead

ahead of solar winds
ahead of
light sped particles

a melodic probe
in the musicless dark

behind it
every color
every sound,
fused as they were
born to be fused,
spread out
to claim
space

all this is still all this
even
on a temperate blue rock
clinging to
the edge of a spiral

all of this is still all of this
even
in the subconscious
of an aging
Bewilderhof
whistling
while weeding
around cabbage

a tune when whistled
would cause the house
to quake

tremors only detectable
if you dared lean on the clapboards
of this phantom matriarch

– a sign maybe

within
a workup of the
wind

a wind that
doused the farm
with dust dust
as was there
a generation
past when,
even at its busiest,
the predilection for a pace glacial prevailed among his father and the hands
bib overalls serving as vaults for flasks and tobacco leaf
bandannas to brow
when the sun grew large
newspaper in boots
when winter surged

now, he too moved slow
dust around his boots
dust on his brow
a dry whistle
a rusty hoe

(c) 2015 Fred Whitehead

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§ 2 Responses to Bewilderhof – 25

  • John Looker says:

    I like the cosmology in these lines, Fred. In fact I like the first half very much indeed. Then you take us into the psychology of your character, and from there to family and others in his background. I can follow that, and in advanced years myself, empathise with his slow whistling while hoeing. Speaking plainly, as a simple soul, I can understand this chapter more than some of the others; and I like it.

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