Semicircle (or) The Arc of a Shore By Robert Frede Kenter

Semicircle (or)  The Arc of a Shore

I would hold you closely

in the confines of a nightmare

We drift towards hollowness

not a mention of

empty pools of light

Preserved above a kitchen counter

rations for winter        the neighbour wears

bloodstains on a woolen

suit jacket vest            and acrobatic

memories        I hear you leaving

The night spirals spins in

a blue blistered sky     lightning

arterial            unprepared

A storm’s  thumping

diaphanous reflections           scenes 

of nonbiodegradable plastics

scattered along shorelines

Visions pool from entwined hands

perennial garden growing roots

thundering acoustic strings

One hundred avenues on city maps

imploding inside

the scars of love          We

speak   too boldly       trauma

triggers           forest excavation

Species of plants protected

sacred in a museum display

like signatures on famous letters

Signifiers of impermanence   Visions

of impermeable moss

ink-drawn stamins      the crosshatch

asemic wallpapers      An artist’s

delicate bowing of bass oars, rowboats,

Victorian hats, an accretion of impulse

As if we could catalogue

the energy of our earth

We borrow but never return

 what we borrow  

and should return

                        to return in kind

Robert Frede Kenter is a Canadian-based, multi-pushcart nominated poet, a writer of prose, a visual artist, a grant recipient (OAC, Toronto Arts Council) and the EIC/publisher of Ice Floe Press (www.icefloepress.net). Widely published, Robert's work can be found in journals, books, and anthologies in Canada and internationally. Twitter: @frede_kenter.