You disappeared quicker than I could watch.
Who would have thought gravity faster than
light, fire from the stars we know already
two hundred and fifty years behind, not
able to compete with the satellites
passing above the place where we lay on
the equatorial line, staring at the heavens.
All through the night they traced our
sleeping as if following a magnet,
orbits slowly degrading, a limited
number of concentric circles, while they
signaled, mapped, tracked, escaping atmosphere
to briefly return, disintegrating.
– Sandra Kolankiewicz
Author’s Note: This poem is about a disintegrating romantic relationship. We went to Chang Mai in 1990 and trekked up near the Burmese border to a village where were to get on a bamboo raft and paddle back towards Chang Mai. …
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Even if we wake before dawn, we nevertheless
inhabit the dark, still feel that need
to light only a sole lamp,
aware of how much we’re yet in that other
world of sleep which is meant
to make this one right.
Those who have been up all
night have more to say
than we who recently rolled the
stone from the mouth of our bed,
but many share rooms with
faces of childhood friends
smiling in fields behind new
houses, breaking through for those
last minutes before the rays of
yesterday are replaced by photons
from this newest return, in the
moments before darkness ceases
to be the vacuum pulling us toward
the heavens and just evaporates.
– Sandra Kolankiewicz…
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You’ve told me more about Saturday nights
than I want to know. Fridays were big at
our house: paycheck, bar, pan to the crown when
he came home swinging. The morning after
was like church a day early: guilt. Always
a headache in cast iron, no buses
but two cars in the driveway, a stack of
bills paid for during the week. By the fifth
day, he wanted to be a child again,
swagger like a teen inside a middle
aged paunch, expectations for life thwarted
by time and poor decisions, a father,
lost and overboard in a leaky
life boat, briefly sharing provisions while
eyeing the life preservers and the oars.
– Sandra Kolankiewicz…
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First we’re asked if we want to change tables,
a free upgrade, the offer innocent
enough except we will find no Reward
Program exists. I don’t have to tell you
how many names I heard but remember
not one, instead recall the crow cocking
its head to look down at me from the dog
wood branch on the tree lawn, unusual
to see them perched so low unless they have
a reason, so I couldn’t listen, don’t
remember a word except the end was
the same, love just what some people feed on
before sending it away all confused
and feeling guilty for talking, thirst more
likely to keep you where you’re wanted than
a seat with a good view will make you move.
– Sandra Kolankiewicz…
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