deja not
by Kitty Boots
it is said deja vu decreases with age
I believe it
the girl in the white dress with high button shoes staring back at me, in a second she was gone
it was in a window front in Manhattan
at Bandelier
children swam in the muddy creek
women whispered in the canyons
I climbed into the kivas
desecrated with graffiti and felt violated
I tended a herd of horses
swirling with a whip in the dust kicked up by
buckskins, paints, Appaloosas
nipped at the heels by dogs
white ones destined for the cook pot
gathered herbs, cloaked in goatskins along a rocky coast throwing spiteful salty spray
mournful winds, sacred stones
cold, unforgiving
and in the spring, digging stick in hand
planted seeds, built- up soil to protect, nourish
grafted vines, set the trellis
birthed the lambs and calves
smudged-out the winter sickness
buried babies born too soon
helped scarify and paint the warriors
I haven't felt my soul leave my body during the eclipse
and I wonder if I have lives to live again
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Author's Note
"we have all been here before," Deja Vu, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
Other stories by Kitty Boots
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Your poetic soul ranges far and wide, and the record it leaves here will remain to nourish others. My favorite line? They're all too fine to pick one over the others. Your words tumble and play, take on a life of their own. This poem sings.
Nicely done.
I love the last line - but only in combination with all that went before. *
Simply gorgeous.
OMG!, Kitty, simply, complexly beautiful. So many good lines/images/symbols. Would love to have written the line: "smudged-out the winter sickness"--and much more.
Lovely.
Thank you, Matt and Gary.
Thank you Beate for your generous comments!
Thank you, Amantine B, I'm pleased you enjoyed it!
Thank you, Ed. Just exploring the many lives we have lived before...you know the energy is just recycled...we come back different, different gender, race, species. It would certainly be nice to be reincarnated as a dolphin or someone's well-cared for house cat, but someone has to be the microbe in the dog turd...live your life accordingly!
Thank you, Dianne!:)
Wonderful storytelling in poetic form. A real treat.
"and in the spring, digging stick in hand
planted seeds, built- up soil to protect, nourish
grafted vines, set the trellis"
Thank you, Darryl!
"a rocky coast throwing spiteful salty spray"
And each life plays across the ocean.
Great, Kitty.*
Thank you, Tim!