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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Where I Came From

A part of me
is now asleep forever.
To remember water
one must deal with the desert.
The past is dry and gone.
But among the stones,
the brambles
that cover the gravel,
I find the quartz
that twinkles like a star.
The bark of old dogs,
trails becoming highways
made by shovels and footsteps.
I know where I came from.

This is how the world began.
Not in Eden,
but among the apples of summer,
the vegetables of a garden,
a grape arbor
festooned with fruit.
Where my hair grew dark,
my eyes shone
with the pale blue of youth.

What wakes me now?
I don’t know.
I shift among shoes of the day,
pull on my pants,
and feel like a stranger
among people
unaware I love them,
and those
who can never be wakened
by shouts and kisses again.

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