Remembering the Future
The authors of my dream
took me to this placeless place,
and told me you were nearby.
I was still surprised,
when, on my way to snatch
some Parisian sun for my roughened eyes
I came upon you reading
a tall book in a taller chair.
“Tasha. Darling,” you said,
as if our warmth were as real
as the wood beneath our feet
or the windowpanes. I was saddened,
for a moment, to learn
that your blue gaze no longer
burns with the riddle
Your voice has deepened, and I wanted
so badly to tell you
that you have found your power;
your yoga teacher would be proud.
Your father called us to the kitchen
and knowing that you wished to preserve
your repose, I asked you
qu’est-ce que vous voudrais?
You chose the uncomplicated poetry
of rambole fumé
on crusty bread.
Finally, after all this waiting,
the smallness of my gift
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Assistant Editor: Holly Horne/Editor: Catherine Monkman
Photo: Martinak15, Flickr