In My Own Words – Page 102 – The Poems of David Garlick

In a wide valley, where mountains

lean back from a carpet of lakes,

we spent a final mother’s day.

There, floating gardens are tended

from flat bottomed boats.

Lotus lilies eye the sky

and Kingfishers hover.

A last few hours together,

we wished it would not end

but life was cruel,

always good byes and tears.

How were we to know that –

we would never see her again or

feel her arms around us.

The moon watched, painting a

pale path on the muddy Jhelum.

Chinar trees combed the night

as the creaking boat took us

down stream to our school.

We sobbed quietly,

one on each side of her.

She died the next year,

thousands of miles away.

Cremated and scattered on the

desert sands of a small island.

Nowhere to place a flower,

yet if the rain falls

the desert blooms and she is there.

David Garlick, Victoria, May 1996

I dreamt of a tear, on a face in a park,

a face that watched passers by.

It witnessed young lovers.

Welcomed their children.

It helped those about to die.

The face in the park was hewn in stone

and that tear would never dry.

David Garlick, Puerto Vallarta, January 1997

At night,

when silence wraps the house

words hover over me and

I must set them down –

or they will drift away.

For slumber steals

those first thought words,

the best,

the poignant.

Ignored they seldom survive.

I do not understand this.

The theme persists

but those precious drops

from the thought spring

that I share, dry up.

Leaving only the tantalizing ghosts

of unwritten syllables.

David Garlick, Lopez Island, Washington, September 1996

Emma has a “stand up stool,”

it makes her almost tall.

which is really rather useful

when you are very small.

She never needs a helping hand,

to see what’s on a shelf;

she never asks ”Please lift me up.”

It’s, “I can do it by myself!”

She drags the plywood platform

every where she goes.

Which causes consternation

with other peoples toes.

A tripping hazard it may be,

it blends so well with wood

The legs stick out a little bit,

which shouldn’t be – understood!

So watch your step, your feet, your toes,

your ankles, shins and knees.

For Emma needs to stand up tall;

when helping – if you please.

David Garlick, Sidney, June 2000