Monday, October 4, 2010


Something froze on the shore
etched in lines
scratched by feet of the passing gulls
cast in red-gold rays
of the sudden dawn startling night’s chill
scuttling back to a huddled place
under rocks, in the cool moist dens
of the red-backed crabs
Something froze
on the shore in the salt-tinged sand
where the wind braided hair
and summer freckles smiled
as we combed
tidal pools to fill our treasure chests
Something froze
and I’ve lost your name
Rachel Westfall
October 4, 2010


christopher said...

A poem by Rachel! This creates great happiness in me. I miss your voice very much. I miss being able to write like we do. I have no idea why it is so but it is so. You are inspiration to me. Name. True name. Can I love you, really, if I don't know your true name? Is there a true name without love? If you stop loving me, will I have lost your true name even if I knew it once? Yes!

The Gray Sea

You know my frantic
hopes, my pleas that you decide
to stay in my arms,
but like the gray sea
of this late autumn morning,
like the slick scaled sides
of the creatures there,
you slip free and go. I can't
keep you home this time.

This forces me out
of my dream. I must admit
I no longer know
your true and private

RachelW said...

Haha! A poetic response from Cristopher! You have no idea how happy this makes me. :) I will post my reply here, then blog it properly tomorrow.

The day you lost my name

I was sleek, limbs fresh
and soft as wax
newly emerged
when you first drew me up
in a long embrace
and spoke
my true name in my ear.
You told me I was real,
grew me lean and strong
to run colt-limbed
across the sand, the wind
stroking long ripples
through my hair.
You say you do not know me
now, you say
you’ve lost my name.
Without your hands,
your breath, your hawk’s whisper
I have no name at all.

Elisabeth said...

Glorious words here Rachel - wind braided hair and summer freckles. Lovely.

RachelW said...

Elisabeth, thank you!

christopher said...

:D - so here's how this is gonna go...Big Tent is asking for a poem in response to another's poem this week. I am going to blog on what we do with each other and post my poems but ask everyone to come here and look at this. I think to call it special is an understatement. This thing that we do with each other is glorious and blessed. And though it seems obvious that we ought to be really close friends or lovers, I don't think that would work. Here as blog friends and virtual life strangers, we are free to roam in the wilds of each other's poetry.

Your Gone Away Posture

To me you have gone
and taken your name away.
I no longer know
what it is to say
it, what aroma
and shape it takes when I say
it in day's early
light or in moonshine.
It's your gone away posture
that strafes my soul's face
with large caliber
plugs of gray sea ice
and my peeled back skin reveals
my sunk thews and bones.

Rick said...

Ha! so it was C. who wrote the other one. geez you two confuse me (not a hard thing) no matter, I like them both. and yes, the cold will steal remembrance.

RachelW said...

Rick, if my name's on it, I wrote it. If Christopher's name is on it, he wrote it. I think. We seem to be getting a bit tangled up!

Christopher, I replied, in the form of a new post. A slight tangent, but it's what came to me. I think we are weavers, together.