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Haiku Free Verse Prosies
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Over the high passes and down to the sea,
I ran from the moment when,
instead of running my hand
down the valley of your bare chest,
I flitted and hunched
and nodded when you asked if I was gay.
Over the winding roads
and down the hills toward Santa Cruz
I ran from dreams of tumbling you like dice into a bathtub —
some ideal you —
with your hips against mine
and your beard rough against my neck.
Past the fields of brussels sprouts
and the green-white cliffs
I ran from the miasma of fantasies,
from the dangerous moment that morning
when I answered the twitch in your mouth
and the rove of your eyes
with my own.
Over the railroad tracks
down the slope to the sea,
I picked my way, gathering flowers as I went
for Yemaya.
Feet bare, chest open to the sun,
I came to the doorway in the cliff
I laid my offering in the water
and walked right into my own undoing.
This run began years ago, you know
Before I met you, before you were more
than a twinkle in my father's eye
I've been running all my life
It was only three years ago I stopped
knees twitching below the table
muscles knotted and tight
at the unfamiliar
at the loveless
at the empty
Whether I will see you again
seems unlikely — either of you —
you, dark and small
with a midwestern twang —
or you, pale and tall
with a California drawl
Whether we will ever repeat
those evenings of dreams
or those moments in the sand
seems unlikely
but I carry you with me,
your names like signposts,
reading Here ends
the innocent time you spent with her.
Here begins the new place
— Frances Donovan
May 2001
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