Telling Stories [Novadic poem-image exchange]
Wednesday, September 12, 2012 at 12:54PM 
This is my response to Kerry, but more fittingly a response to [Paul's] sending those photos. So a slideshow, of a sort, in return. Thanks for sending me back to Boston and the Cape. - Chris
[Poem by Chris Moylan. Photos by Paul McLean (ca. 1984).]
Telling Stories
The coast was late in arriving
For that sudden sunset,
so we invented a new far away,
beautiful, well preserved,
like a bible newly translated
from a long winter’s sleep.
Last Breaths
What did we expect? a paper
airplane gliding like a gloved
finger over dust…a conclusion
comforting, almost inaudible
amidst the date palms
And ghosts in the varnish…
Anticipation
Sadness so evening kitchen,
so dirty dishes and ice chips,
so twist-off bottle of Ginger Ale…
clouds gathering kindling
from what’s left of the treeline
to burn what’s left of sleep…
Regrets and disappointments…
Everything addled, a bit
Off kilter, too bright, and
too dark at the same time…
All the windows thrown open,
Flocks of heron, egrets come through.
Crosswords
Pills and crumpled napkins,
breakfast crumbs, newspapers
Baking in the oven… Pat telling
stories that don’t fit together;
words come first, then the puzzle,
then the empty spaces.
Last Day
On television an old man
Talking to an empty chair, other
Old men bobbing like cut bait
For Leviathan to clear the air…
This is Florida. I can’t wait
To get out of here…
A few families on Bonita Beach
Paralyzed by the sun. Stillness
Everywhere. Within the stillness,
A slight rise and fall on the bay
That pulls freighters into the haze
Does God read my mind?
Maybe, maybe not.
Pat has only a few days
and I am content to sit here,
mind empty, more or less,
no memories, no lists, no tasks,
just stillness and sand,
mind read, contents emptied...
chris moylan, novadic exchange, paPaul McLean, photography, poetry in PHOTOS, exchanges, poetry 
