Wednesday, July 22, 2009

At Lake Scugog

Troy Jollimore (2009)

1.
Where what I see comes to rest,
at the edge of the lake,
against what I think I see

and, up on the bank, who I am
maintains an uneasy truce
with who I fear I am,

while in the cabin’s shade the gap between
the words I said
and those I remember saying

is just wide enough to contain
the remains that remain
of what I assumed I knew.

2.
Out in the canoe, the person I thought you were
gingerly trades spots
with the person you are

and what I believe I believe
sits uncomfortably next to
what I believe.

When I promised I will always give you
what I want you to want,
you heard, or desired to hear,

something else. As, over and in the lake,
the cormorant and its image
traced paths through the sky.

2 comments:

dan said...

from The New Yorker (July 27, 2009)

Mary said...

Troy -
Were you writing at Lake Scugog Ontario? Could there be another?

I was a Washburn Island cottager at one time as a child and I was googling and came across your poem.

I'm a memoir writer and Scugog features in my story.

I know exactly how it is to be out in a boat on those waters. But your poem is about people in transition. Ilked it very much.