your head often turns
spilling time
i know you can’t keep your sleep

i dreamed of you in the morning
you were trying hard to wake with me
into a new past

is it what we need? to hold up in
a place where images are
twisting into meaning
or should we travel around
hunting for words

standing as I was, in the field
when a light came over my shoulder
i saw Nancy throwing salt at the moon
later she would explain to us
what she really knew
except about the Beech tree
growing near the swamp
a place of sanctuary
i saw it again much later
and went there in a dream
I don’t know if it still exists or
if the land is built over with new houses

everyone carved their names into it’s bark
along with a heart or two

there were people milling in the street
we heard them clopping on the cobbles

today is a holiday
but who wants to celebrate
who wants to listen carefully
who wants to see from the outside in
the path stops when the gate has no hinges

what is it in you that’s so different?
I can’t figure the rain the way you want me to
walking there i feel the earth’s energy by the river

i just saw your face
inside the back of my head
you were standing here
perhaps you’re a slow rememberer
what can I do to speed you up?

JOHN L SILVER grew up Cold Spring Harbor, L.I. He has written poems and created cover art for instant books including White Rabbit and Tamarind. His poems have appeared in Long Island Sounds and other anthologies. John was also Curator of The Image and The Word exhibition at the Westbeth Gallery. Three Books of poetry (UNDERFIELD PRESS).