In March, I make a 6-month sojourn to my beloved Oaxaca. This poem reflects some complicated feelings about change and leaving. It is a pantoum, a 15th-century Malaysian poetic form with repeating lines in specific stanzas -- however formulaic, to me it works like magic.
Change’s Dark Truth
It’s strange, I haven’t left yet,
and the memories are already here,
shadowy and beautiful,
telling change’s dark truth.
The memories are already here --
the Magnolia, magenta petals blazing,
telling change’s dark truth,
and your soft gray muzzle nuzzling my chin.
The Magnolia, magenta petals blazing,
and the bullfrog wintering in December’s pond,
your soft gray muzzle nuzzling my chin,
and the women in the shower room.
And the bullfrog wintering in December’s pond,
moist scent of Sassafras in the childhood yard,
the women in the shower room ─
Will I know them forever?
Moist scent of Sassafras in the childhood yard,
shadowy and beautiful:
I will know it forever.
It’s strange, I haven’t left yet.
