The Beginning
by CJ Rakay

                After Mark Strand

Who knows where you will be
when those first thoughts slip away
like lilies on a marshy pond,

when the face of your best friend
escapes you, and your child’s laughter
is only dimly remembered,

when you’re told you cannot go home
because you can no longer read a clock,
or boil an egg, or even button a sweater.

Who knows what you will feel
when the tide pulls you out, slowly,
a grain at a time, and you drown

in the slim light of only right now,
clutching a small draw-string bag of candy,
staring up at the surface, shimmering and bright.



 

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