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Jay Ramsay

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By Snowshill Stream

for Susie

Strands of her blond hair floating in the dream,
Falling suddenly, shockingly, dry on wet--
All of its long Swedish length he sheared for her
Chosen purification, into the water...years ago, gone now

Even as its impact remains, as I imagined it, told
And have done since--in fact every time I’ve stood on this
                                                                                        bridge;
Exquisitely arched in its Cotswold stone, two paces long...
Invisibly now as the water’s meniscus in the evening light
Now so many other feet have been here, other eyes
And thoughts, building these child-like dams
The water layers itself down over

As you swing silently behind me
On the white makeshift seat with its struts of blue rope
Hanging from the alder’s generous branch,
Resting in your silence, as I squat on dried cow-mud, seeing

That as deep as we may see
The earth remembers nothing but its own secrets
That are invisible to us--
The earth only remembers its life
In a maze of rootlets, tendrils and sliding
Scurrying, burrowing creatures--

And us ? Playing as we are, always seriously,
Whatever our size and age--and as fleetingly
Maybe the earth remembers a little of what it chooses to
In the graced veils of her places, which have been graced,
By loving eyes or sacrifice, something worth dreaming...

Or as our eyes meet silently--

The way you might remember me.

 

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