By Fred Ostrander
We adjusted the straps like beasts — stepped
into the shin-deep sand
winds slope the dunes mingling like cloth
color penetrating the dusk
like a dye — distance — the mountain like a hymn.
Wind days we cannot count
beside me you glimmer and shadow recognition
(the journey is double) our fingers through the wind.
Circles of the sun focusing upon us like a lens
the eyes redden — Later
violent gestures falling upon the sand
instinct — an animal — shadows the sand.
Head into the wind an exodus
end existence — begin dream
a lost compass
the delicate tremble and balance
upon the north.
Seated at the page
it is solitary to reconstruct
an infinity of what was omitted
my love — the journal — discovered we
cannot fabricate the dawn in my skull
delicate and noetic as a gate.
Fred Ostrander Since the publication of his book, The Hunchback and the Swan (Woolmer/Brotherson, 1978), Fred Ostrander has continued to write and serve as poetry editor of Blue Unicorn. His work has been published in literary magazines and reviews, including Drumvoices Revue, Eclipse, Hawaii Pacific Review, Hawaii Review, Nimrod, Permafrost, Poetry International, Porcupine, Rattle, The Texas Review, Willow Review, Wisconsin Review, and Zone 3, among others. Fred Ostrander was the featured poet in Volume XXII of Sulphur River Literary Review.