Photographs by Leonard Gontarek

Photographs by Leonard Gontarek

1

What could one mean in September when the temperature equals the water,
to forget the place one is in and travel to another,
while on the street the painters are unfolding ladders, fondling, nostalgically, hardened
brushes.
If the Arms and Armor wing of the museum is mentioned,
it is the first place my son would want to view.
If Vermont is mentioned, the light always appears sepia there.
When did I stop dreaming about Vermont here in the city?
When did I speak French so fluently as I do in my dreams?
We are looking for a body in dreams, passing the beam of light, the movie screen.
Outside my window, they are actually looking for two bodies in the light flooding the
river.

2

Let the stars and police boat lights disassemble on the river.
Let prayer be a handful of words.

3

Praise in autumn the changing content of dreams.
Praise the supermarket I am in, the cart I fill

with old photographs from Vermont,
the poems of Ronald Johnson.

Praise in the freezer section, the door frosted over,
swords and shields from the museum’s collection.

 

The Long Way Home by Leonard Gontarek, now available from BlazeVOX [books]