This is from The Lady in Kicking Horse Reservoir, "With Kathy
at Wisdom."
I only dreamed that high cliff we were on,
overlooking Wisdom and the Big Hole drain.
I dreamed us high enough to not see men,
dreamed old land behind us better left.
And we were vagabond.
We went twice to Wisdom, not in dream.
Once in day, odd couple after brooks.
And then at night, dark derelicts
obsessed with fake false fronts for tourists
and the empty church.
I dream the cliff again.
Evening.
Deep beneath, Wisdom turning lights on.
Neon flakes are planets when we touch.
I wake up shouting, Wisdom's not that much,
and sweating, Wisdom never will be bright.
Lord, we need sun.
We need moon, fern and mercy.
Form and dream destroyed.
Need the cliff torn down.
To hold hands and stare down the raw void of the day.
Be my contraband.
Three fat eastern brook a night, that's my private limit.
The cliff broke, and wind pours in on Wisdom,
leaving false fronts really what they seem.
Morning Wisdom, Kathy.
It is no dream.
[APPLAUSE]
Thank you.