The summer's gone to rain
the murmurs of water and leaf.
These gray skies and cool air
speak to me of my Vancouver winters.
Indonesia and Singapore and Canada
begin to loom behind the rain
and the ending of this unique summer.
The fear of loosing things
is with me, sometimes.
In the mirror, in my relationship with Lise,
in my job, in my son's years,
and in Rose's patience.
And I wonder if I was ever
stronger or weaker.
Before, I used to stare my fears down
with the promise of the future
but now I've lived, I'm waiting no longer to begin,
and I know the future as well as the past.
Now, when I confront my fears or the rain,
I can bring no illusions.
Now enlightenment is not an option
among my future dreams.
It waits for me like steel trap
behind each burning moment.
And it waits for me to arrive,
dead or alive.
gallagher
4 September 85
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —