SageGreenJournal.org
voices out of the West, mostly poetry, personal to planetary
Laurie James
Salida, Colorado
A Conversation
by Laurie James
Laurie James was born during a Montana January blizzard to a one-eyed man and a one-thumbed woman. The inspirations of her poetry practice flow from the great western landscapes and backroads she travels. Laurie is a 44-year resident of Salida, Colorado, where she spins life's metaphors in the view of a lone pine and the wide-open valley sky.
What is the weight of moonlight, I ask.
He frowns across the expanse.
What? He exclaims.Light has no weight.
Au contraire, mon ami ... You sure?
'Cause when I stand in theglow
it surefeels gold-heavy and leanin'hard.
That's just crazy, he says.
Crazy? Try it. It mustbe all that
emotional push and pull.
And thatmust weighsomething.
That's force, not weight. That's gravity.
He replies smugly.
Oh, and sorrow, sorrow weighs more than moonlight.
What?he chides.
Sorrow erodes us. It eatsaway muchlike rust,
layer by layer,devouring us.
Onlysomethingheavy can do that!
What does sorrow have to do with moonlight? He asks calmly.
Don't you see? They both diffuse the heart.
Scatter it until we become invisible.
What? He stammers.
I smile, but he does not see me. I have become invisible