Flute Song
Three winds
braid through me
Three winds:
One the body’s petulances
exaltations of joy, moods
from quietude to
domineering, even a willingness
to inflict pain–an allegiance
vowed to that capo
the Murderer
Three winds:
Also, a day that inches by
minute after minute
to construct years become leaves pouring from
a yellowed aspen
in late Fall
–an unceasing gale
that reshapes flesh like steam
that rattles downspouts, windows
a brute flow
that disperses chimney smoke downwards and away
along with entire forests
blocks of stores
neighbors, parents
Three winds:
And one the stream of ashes from a burn pile
swirling with me as I circle
to try to escape the particulates that
scratch at the eyes
choke my airway
confuse me about which body, whose time
I move inside
about who pushes forward through the
gusts and eddies
with my name
~ Tom Wayman
Tom Wayman currently teaches English and creative writing at the University of Calgary, after a long career teaching in mainstream and alternative post-secondary writing programs in B.C. In Winter 2007 he was the Fulbright Visiting Chair in Creative Writing at Arizona State University, and in October 2007 will hold the Ralph Gustafson Chair in Poetry at Malaspina University-College, Nanaimo, B.C. His most recent books (2007) are a collection of poems, High Speed Through Shoaling Water, and a first collection of short fiction, Boundary Country. He is president of the board of Sheri-D Wilson’s Calgary International Spoken Word Festival.
This was an enjoyable read. The repetition, the flow, the texture, all made me feel the solitary notes comprising this piece.