Another old poem I found – I think this one was written with my sweet writing group back in Seattle. I miss those folks! And yes, while I work on the last round of proofing for the novel, I am resorting to posting bits and pieces of old writing. New stuff soon, I promise!

***

A bit of confetti, a piece of melted chocolate, and a Swiss Army knife

You wake up in a strangely colored light.

You wonder for a moment if you are still in the place you thought you’d left, or already in the place you meant to go next.

The light is the colour of a forest-fire sky. But the outside of your tent is damp; it’s been raining here.

*

You always check first for your swiss army knife. It was a gift

from your brother. His final gift to you.

It’s there,

in your pocket,

where it should be.

You begin to breathe.

*

Breathing in the strangely-colored, mistaken light.

*

Your mind begins to focus as you breathe. The morning air

has a chill to it. It surprises you to find, next to your knife, a bit of chocolate

melted in its wrapper. It is no longer the appropriate oblong shape.

It is now an obscene lump.

*

You don’t fully recall why you have a piece of chocolate in your pocket, nor why it melted. You lie in the strange mistaken light and breathe and try

not to recall

too quickly.

*

In the corner of your pocket clings a bit of confetti.

*

Now you recall.

*

You breathe.

*

You hold your brother’s swiss army knife.

You breathe.

You recall.

You begin to prepare yourself to pack up

and go.