The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 2/27/08

[BlueIris]

"The Dream"

Jane's voice on the phone is grave and soft and strong.
Her hair's gone. I cut it off, she said. She's Joan of Arc now.

Dogs bark at people they don't know.
All those barking dogs in my dreams. And now

they know me and don't bark. A cat screams from the yard.
I'd live with you, but I wouldn't marry you, is what

my father said, offhandedly, from the couch.
He's dead now. And the sentence burns in my heart.

Jane’s voice belongs to another world:
the world I entered when I decided to leave my father.

Sometimes the island wavers and shimmers underfoot,
but the bridge appears when you walk across it—that's

how it works, right? There's no end to this.

—Marie Howe

[miss_american_pie]

1. ...

:kick:

[CaliforniaPeggy]

2. My dear BlueIris!

Well, dreams are often pretty weird!

And this one is no exception...

I'm not getting it, though...

Except that it's nightmarish, and...There's no end to this...

Thank you...

:hi:

[BlueIris]

3. I think the speaker was talking about her initiation into the world of the bereaved.

The dogs barking at people they don't know who then cease to bark at her—I thought of the "hounds of hell." They probably bark less now that she's a known member of their "turf."

[BlueIris]

4. Kick.