At dawn these still waters were filled with clamoring gulls.
Now, in morning’s languid light, just the
harsh contralto of a journeying crow, the
muted bass and treble
of waves from a passing boat’s wake. Tall pines
on the opposite shore cast long, green reflections
onto the motionless river, making (you think)
a long, green road boasting
many unmarked entrances and exits, many
signs in strange languages you almost
vaguely familiar landmarks and
fleeting faces almost
recognizable as beloved.
Some say go out into the desert to find your god.
Some say go up into the mountains. No such voices here,
on the long, green road of unforgetting, just the
muted bass and treble of your own footsteps, just that
that other almostsong.
"The Road of Unforgetting" by Elizabeth Ayres. © Elizabeth Ayres. Presented here by poet submission. Elizabeth Ayres is the author of four books and the founder of the Elizabeth Ayres Center for Creative Writing, which specializes in aspiring writers. "The Road of Unforgetting" is from a work-in-progress entitled Azimuth of God: poems of absence and presence.
Art credit: "Pine Flatwoods" at Jonathan Dickinson State Park (Florida, USA), image by unknown photographer.