A Place of Morning by Luis Garcia
painting by Jane Booth
2003, 32 pages
A P L A C E O F M O R N I N G
He woke in the middle of his favorite dream
thinking to dream this dream once more quickly.
The quickness with which the whole thing
as he now called it had occurred truly amazed him
a maze of events all taking the shape of a single story
or in this case a single dream.
So now he comes to this morning, this place of dreams,
still morning. Now the sound of a bell
takes shape in the distance. Now a stage
and a series of events take their shapes from shapelessness.
And so the dream itself continues.
Empty places, traces of a cold wind,
a movement toward a place of morning,
a moment there to dream of other mornings—
And so the other mornings also come and go,
one inside the other. And so this morning
also comes and goes deep inside itself,
a place of dreams, a place of other mornings.
Now he wakes inside another place.
The time is morning. The house is cold.
A cold wind traces a pattern
across the windows of yet another house.
Outside in the dark trees bits and pieces
of sunlight suddenly appear.
Now a sunlit room and the presence
of another person moving in that room
also suddenly appear. This place, he thinks,
this place is truly a place of morning.
T H E S T A I N S
for Pam and Barbara
The black and blue stains
force their way
through the green veins.
The leaf of my disbelief
falls to the ground.
It barely makes a sound.
A bell of water begins to toll
at the center
of an invisible bowl.
Now I can see the birds of night.
Now I can understand their mysterious flight.
Now I can hear their dark call
as they quickly disappear
into the morning light.