Archive
12/30/09 - (3)
Taking Off
On a lark, a whim, a caprice, I drive off, toward Duluth, this Wednesday a.m., In my reluctant rental car, Which has been parked, outdoors, for eight days, The entirety of my stay at Lake Nebagamon.
Once again, the sky is alive with crystalline flakes — Tiny white wraiths arriving like aliens, Invading my vincible domain, Reminding me that I, also, am provisional, From somewhere else.
Why I feel such urgency to bolt, today, Escape the warmth of my cabin, Expose my insulated bones to the cold, more snow, I have no notion whatsoever, Lest it be that I just need a bracing pace-change,
A few new hours in a newer space, To let me get a fresh perspective, a different take, On why I've traveled all this way, from St. Louis, In late December's frigid grip, The reason for my break with sad, fading reality.
Suddenly, drifting back, out of my trance, I see, in the snow-misted distance, The hill-built Minnesota city Overlooking Lake Superior's southern tip, Its grain elevators, Aerial Lift Bridge, iced-in ships. Who knows why I do what I do or cares? Let's just say that impulse guides me And that I trust my primal instincts, Those involuntary emotions, passions, intuitions That push me off the edges of precipices,
Send my visions flying in unestimable directions, By the seat of their black-silk long johns, blue jeans, As I'm doing, right this early-morning whiteout, In pursuit of I know not quite what, Hoping that whatever I discover will discover me.
12/30/09 - (3)
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