I found a secret pond
Hidden behind our hotel,
Undisturbed by human touch
As far as I could tell.
Cow parsley abounded,
Poppies and wild orchids
As high as an ox’s haunches,
As quiet as a glade where
Kine chewed their cuds;
Harbingers of summer rain,
They survived for years
Near this pond in a spell
Without knowing.
I later researched the spot
And read in a local newspaper
(On a whirring microfilm reader
In a library which burnt down
To appease an arsonist’s wishes;
It was not rebuilt but
That’s another plot)
About a boy found nearby,
Murdered thirty years ago,
Face down in a muddy brook
Which filtered through that pond;
His body turned to browns
Then younger dust, as does
Memory, as does Love.
The ox transformed before
My eyes to become a great
Black swan with a neck as long
As a distant sun, like beams
Which slipped through our blinds
In the hotel room we shared
As I kissed your back, and
Inhaled, and found a mole
Beside your spine I had not
Observed until that afternoon,
Just like the pond and
The boy and the swan;
They all took flight.
I kissed you there as you slept,
Grateful for your affirmations,
Your vivacity, your life,
And I thought about a community
Seeking a child through
The scrub and the reeds
And the sum of all strife
They would not find alive.