Skip to main content

Oh Shadow, Dear Shadow (Minimoog, Pt 1)

I don't know
if it was just
that it was Alberta
or the time
of the world
or something else
that I haven't been able
to put my finger on
but there are things
I remember
that aren't quite right

I was OK
with choral speech
at the Jubilee Auditorium
in Edmonton
Related image
admittedly
not knowing
it might have been
possible
for us
to choreograph
the syllables we spoke
with
silhouettes

but I was focussed
on memorizing lines
at 5
I may have
had feeling
in my voice
but not
so as one could say
I was actually
enunciating
when all I was doing
was responding
to the cues
of Mrs. Kelly
orchestrating
surprise and other plus forts
with her hands
and her eyes

we performed
two numbers
that Autumn
as a Centennial project
obligatory and patriotic
at the time

there was "Shadow Dance"
by Ivy O. Eastwick
and "Missing"
by A.A. Milne

Eastwick was middle-aged
at the time
Milne
of Pooh fame
had recently died
both were English
and we were still
colonial

"Shadow Dance"
was a solitary poem
that made me feel
I had company
while I rehearsed
the lines
the trouble was
the poem was
about dance
and I couldn't dance
and I didn't dance
and I still can't dance
but with two left feet
and no wiggle
in my hips
I mouthed the words
with the others
and together
we conjured
angels
whom none of us saw
and none of us heard

so we began

Oh Shadow,
Dear Shadow,
Come, Shadow,
And dance!
On the wall
In the firelight
Let both of
Us prance!
I raise my
Arms, thus!
And you raise
Your arms, so!
And dancing
And leaping
And laughing
We go!
From the wall
To the ceiling,
From ceiling
To wall,
Just you and
I, Shadow,
And no one else
At all.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Animals and aliens

When you think of Orwell's Animal Farm , you get stuck on the idea of some being more equal than others.  But world peace, galactic harmony, the celebration of diversity and the active practice of inclusion are all achieved in science fiction by casting minorities in the role of animals and aliens.  Star Trek comes to mind in this regard, where even hippies were disposed of, Federation style, as sensitive dissenting aliens, not forgetting Spock with his pointy ears!  And then there were Wookiees, still man's best friend. Viewing animals as humans--anthropomorphizing--or treating different races as aliens, all of this is shape shifting.  This shape is my shade, there where I used to stand--that's Steely Dan.

Of course she's not a true red

As the parent of a "ginger", and having red heads on both sides of the family, and having married into two Irish families, I know first hand that ginger covers the whole spectrum from strawberry blonde (to my way of thinking a classic ginger!), to orange (carrot tops), to a real rust red (what my father in law would call a true red).  When Pat Todkill first set eyes on his granddaughter, he remarked, "Of course, she's not a true red".  For one thing, Emily the Elder lacked freckles on her face and upper body.  For another, she really was and is a strawberry blonde. A further observation.  Even people with the raven blackest hair have rust red lights--caveman red, soot covered ochre if you like.  Woolly mammoth red.  Sometimes it takes just the right light to pick out the smoldering ember, but beard and eyebrows tend to incorporate the tell tale ginger strain, like chili pepper in a spice jar of mixed pepper corns. And, of course, brunette...

Things always end in the Summer

In the middle of the second major heatwave of the season, the City cut the wildflowers along the footpath.  I mean they cut everything 30 inches on either side of the pavement, but since the flowers were my friends, all I saw was that they cut the flowers, even though they actually mowed indiscriminately.  And it must have been a chore for the labourer in this heat, so his feet were heavy when he made hay of the prettiest parts of the Summer.  But I can't get to that right now; I'm still reeling from the loss of chicory, and the other pinks and yellows and blues whose names I was just beginning to learn. "Program, get your program", I heard the barker call on my way to the bleachers.  I turned once and caught his eye, and looked at the program in his hand and back into his eyes--all the while his eyes following mine--but then he looked back to his hand, and again into my eyes and he said "You can't tell the player without a card"! Did it matter that ...