A Shrugging Dune

by Eleanor Goldfield

I'm missing who I thought I'd become

into a featureless sky, I'm carving clouds

in the age of anxiety,

how old is too young to rest?

The tail of a kite

a shrugging dune

a lost grip and a whip of wind

then a stillness that barely lifts your hair

I'm here -

I'm not sure I was there

But if all time is always,

some place, I got it right

if I can hold my regret –

who's shaping who?

Who leads in a dance with oneself?

Where's the beat?

I hear those echoes – on repeat

a melody memory dreams that we made -

a dive into skies

a depth we could fly -

- I lay me down -

coz I'm already on the ground

I imagine you better than you were -

the skipping of forgetting -

jagged scratches on vinyl -

the smooth sound of faded thoughts

I don't remember the truth -

but the lie is mine

and in real time -

the lines fill like sand in a high tide -

and home is the lightness of water in moonlight

fingertips on the surface – body below -

so much more than the tip of this iceberg I know

melting, but always whole -

a drip, a breath, a blink, a rip -

a rift, a sink, a lift, a sigh -

a silent synapse sizzles -

in the simmer of a sunrise

(this poem is on the EP No Solo , available here )