They called us children once

They called us children once.

Before eyes were windows

dappled in our fogged night,

dawn proud; unknowing

shadowed play between locked fingers.

They called us children once.

There came silence to the cries

when our skin learned its shape,

the mewling crescendo of fingertips

drumming our answer in the twilit backseat.

 

They called us children once.

Until we danced.

Warning: Winter Ahead. Image by Chris Galford.

* I realize in recent days I’ve not been the most prolific of bloggers. No Inside Idasia. No crafty banter. A brief smattering of poems, a Christmas photo, and little else. Well, I just wanted to let you know that will be changing with the new year. I’ve been out of town and out of state, and between family, friends, and a distinct interest in a little break, I’ve been having myself a pretty good vanishing act. Tomorrow I return to Colorado, however, and Monday things should resume their usual pace.

But with that, I wish you all a happy New Year! The old was crazy enough here – between finally publishing, between the move out of state, between all the kind support and friendly community you all have provided…I think the new will be hard-pressed to top it, honestly, but I wouldn’t mind a good surprise. I hope it has been the same for all of you, and thank you simply for taking the time to swing by my humble little corner of the blogosphere. It has meant the world!

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17 thoughts on “They called us children once

  1. until we danced…yes..i think it was that dance that ended the childhood days..and some dance it way too early.. happy new year to you chris, looking forward to reading more of you in 2012 and.. was missing your book shelf at the pub on monday..smiles

  2. Chris, this is such a beautiful poem. I look forward to reading more of your work, but realize we do what we can as far as blogging. I believe quality is more important than quantity and you certainly have that nailed down. Have a joyful, productive New Year.

  3. I love the photograph, the cloud looking like it’s diving over the mountain, trailing a long dress of snow…and your poem is very deft, a perfect one for endings and beginning, with a resonant, toastable finally(as in, here’s looking at you, not breakfast. ;_) ) Happy New Year, Chris.

  4. happy new year chris…i am so excited about your book, your move and having you as a part of our community…they can still call me a child even though i dance…smiles….i like the repitition in this of your title…

  5. Excellent. I especially love this:

    “dappled in our fogged night,
    dawn proud; unknowing”

    And the fingertapping crescendo in the backseat.

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