Tsi-Laan

Chelan, in Salish

it means “deep water.”

 

Innumerable pieces of our hearts

are folded there

into its blue waves.

 

They scallop toward us in dreams

reflecting the rugged green

of shoreline firs and pines,

 

little houses dotting the hillside,

boat slips bouncing near the shore.

 

The cabin cradled

in the hillside above it

echoes from the sound

of all we shared there,

our infant family

now grown large.

 

Memories, thick

as the blueberry pies

made from our fresh pick—

of our cooler filled

with sandwiches and apples,

our little open bow boat

filled with sunscreen

and laughter.

 

We lost sunglasses to Tsi-Laan—

t-shirts, frisbees, our hearts,

to the deep of it.

 

And those surrounding hills,

clothed in golden summer velvet

above the tree line,

get swallowed up in its crystal hue,

 

the way we always do—

the swell of memories

in a wake behind us,

 

floating on a dream.

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

For Melissa’s prompt at dVerse using the artwork of Alma Thomas.  I used her Light Blue Nursery (1968) pictured above.

 

Fun facts:  Lake Chelan is the deepest lake in Washinton state, the third deepest in the US, and the 25-28^th deepest in the world (depending upon the source).  I’ve written about it a few times before.

 

Desert Wings

 

Before the purpling of the sky,

a Great-tailed Grackle

bemoaned the heat

with open mouth.

 

He was gone

before the dust storm blew

across the lawn

turning it, and us, ashen.

 

There were no bells,

no ceremony.

Only this: dead

voices

 

rising

like motors running

from somewhere in the deep

 

stirring memories

of my bare feet

in the sand,

 

my hands lifting

shells from the shore

for a backward listen.

 

How different it all was back then.

 

But it wasn’t, was it?

Life has always been

roiling about us

in the mix of the fair

and the foul.

 

Did we just let

all that darkness take over,

choking everything

in toxic grip?

 

Did we just ignore it,

hoping the tide would go

just as it came?

 

Even so,

what I know now

I will not remain

perched to repeat,

 

she-grackle,

small and brown,

mouth open in the heat,

shaking sand

from my unfolding wings.

 

 

© 2024 Jennifer Wagner

 

Shay’s Word Garden Word List

dVerse Open Link Night #385 

Since birds have no sweat glands, we often see Great-tailed Grackles walking about with their mouths open to cool down in the AZ summer heat.