Firework Scars
I stepped by the waterfall,
memories restless, awakened
from induced night slumber,
drugged with bottle contents
until the pain of tears vanished
Until the misery of wrought hands,
twisted iron becomes but another
breath catching exercise, a cleared
throat from pasts immemorial to
Walk beside in space and time
to final resting. A blackout
after wounded crackle of static
on the airwave, a signal taken
too little from words
We passed as codes in dark
corners, back and forth through
wire fence.
A look at the roadkill, the tar
paper pine, the burn rubber leavings
of last year’s party favour revolution
Tells of nothing, save regretted
rancor: the lonely scribe dying
with his head firmly perched
To righteous side he’d never take
in fear of too much certainty.
Carter Vance is a writer and poet originally from Cobourg, Ontario, Canada currently resident in Gatineau, Quebec, Canada. His work has appeared in such publications as The Smart Set, Contemporary Verse 2 and A Midwestern Review, amongst others. He was previously a Harrison Middleton University Ideas Fellow. His latest collection of poems, Places to Be, is currently available from Moonstone Arts Press.
Image: Dietmar Rabich / Wikimedia Commons / “Dülmen, Kirchspiel, Wiese in der Bauerschaft Börnste — 2016 — 1523-9” / CC BY-SA 4.0For print products: Dietmar Rabich / https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:D%C3%BClmen,Kirchspiel,_Wiese_in_der_Bauerschaft_B%C3%B6rnste—2016–_1523-9.jpg / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/- Alternatively: Dietmar Rabich / https://w.wiki/9AYK / https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/https://w.wiki/9AYK, https://w.wiki/_tsVi (Shortlink)
