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SKATING ON THE WATER
Private Notes
Private Notes
Notes
Skating on the Water
Age 11, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, 1956
a rainy day in summer
-- This is one poem, in an autobiographical series of poems, that I posted here at WriteSpike. Go to my stories section for others. They are in chronological order. --
Rainy days were microscope days
when I glimpsed another kind
of gravity
sitting at my 'lab'
part real, part imagination
I was looking into secret worlds
for answers
a fly wing
sugar crystals
a halftone photograph
an onion skin
my toenail...
each of these magnified
revealed a different nature
during sunny days
I studied other worlds
lying on our small dock
I spent hours
watching the magic bugs
who skated on the pond's surface
without getting wet
and since the age of seven
I had set out in our rowboat
each summer going a bit further
until I had explored
the coastline
from the mill at one end
to the falls at the other
so on this wet afternoon
when I looked out
from this windowed room
I knew
each fallen tree where the turtles hid
each sandy spot where fish laid their eggs
each clump of cattails
where startled blackbirds flew out
now like building a sand castle
and imagining a kingdom
I held up a slide
and thought of Louis Pasteur in the movie -
I could see my room of glass
full of experiments
cluttered with test tubes, flasks and Bunsen burners
then suddenly miles off
I heard the moan of fog horns
at the entrance to the Canal
I looked up to see clouds of mist
painting the houses across the pond
in dark grey
before they disappeared
turning to my microscope
I sliced a fragment
from our weeping willow tree
whose branches dripped into the pond
under the lens the cross-section of
wood cells glowed transparently
like paper lanterns
that we lit every Fourth of July
and I knew
I had found my bearings
Comments
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Great memory and beautiful poem Rick! Thanks again for sharing with us!
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This is very creative. It's really nice that you blended science and poetry in this piece. I can't wait to read what you write next.
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I've always felt that science could have a poetic aspect. Einstein thought that and some scientists have been inspired by dreams.
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so on this wet afternoon when I looked out from this windowed room I knew each fallen tree where the turtles hid each sandy spot where fish laid their eggs each clump of cattails where startled blackbirds flew out
The imagery is startling captivating. I really feel like I could be there and I understood their emotions.-
Everything I described really happened so that helps, I think.
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It's one of those memories where I imagine myself back there years ago like it was yesterday -- some memories are like that.