Waiting for Release

In the Dark

He lies
in the gloom and wastes
and waits.
He is tired.

He dreams
of the time before.

The moon clings to clouds.
The dogs sing
to the unburdened air.

In the dream he lifts his son
to the sky
settles him on a red horse,
offers it a sweet.

He wakes --
the vision of his baby
laughing,
tangled in the mane
of a wild thing,
blood
spit
tears.

~Elodie Pritchartt

The Weight of Water

The wind whispers secrets soon to

be revealed.  Pushes him along.

There is no cure.

He shuffles. Small steps. Unsure

for the first time

in forever

whether he can make the hill.

Pail in hand, he bends, turns

the spigot, spends 

precious minutes.

Watches water fall. Rinses

out the larvae and the slime.

Fills the pail and after

a time convinces himself to stand.

Physics is cruel. And a body at

rest remains. He moves forward.

Pours water for the cats,

seed for the birds, feed for the possums

and raccoons. Corn for the deer.

Meat for the dogs.

They need. They all need to live, he says.

Everything is creation or calamity

and he the only thing between.

What will they do when he is gone?

It is hunger that drives him

though he does not eat. He is shrinking

and I think he may shrink into the earth

when his credits and balances are due.

He is winded, his time near its end.

He passes me the pail. I bend.

Turn the spigot.     Water falls.

~ Elodie Pritchartt

March 9, 2012

Immersion by Elodie Pritchartt

Like teabags poised  1 over the roiling water,  2 we dangled, by turns,  3 from a rope.  4 Pushed off the roof  5 of the boat,  6 swung out and dropped  7 into the muddy mug  8 of the Mississippi  9 only to emerge  10 laughing  11 surprised  12 at having survived  13 the fall.  14 Little mud mustaches  15 etched the sepia  16 memories of  17 that river  18 that day  19 that summer  20 that childhood  21 into our skin.  22 Now the sandbars  23 whose soft embrace  24 showed us the way  25 rarely surface --  26 the channel and our veins  27 silted  28 with the detritus  29 of forty years.  30 We have reunions,  31 make note  32 of those not there.  33 Search name tags  34 for faces  35 we no longer  36 recognize.  37 We bury  38 parents  39 friends  40 and fears  41 of the undertow  42 as the bank sloughs  43 each spring  44 rechannels  45 our expectations  46 and we emerge  47 laughing  48 surprised  49 at having survived  50 at all.  51