Loch Lomond, Scotland

I wanted to write something that would blend perfectly with February but I didn't come close to what I would have wanted to write. The poem below is something that may come close to the deeper meaning of Valentine's Day, though not following its stated rhythm. It will still blend though being February's contrapuntal flow and certainly a part of life's whole.

Loch Lomond, Scotland

March 2002

Leaves that have shed off skin

like memory returning to paper

to wood and then to fire

send smokes that return

to the weight of words

never spoken on a night long gone.

One twilight in early spring

I was a ghost

left by a rain of leaves

retracing the daffodils

from Glasgow to Ardlui Marina.

I felt I scooped the entire lake

and poured it into a goblet

while I celebrated the gift of water

and of sunsets

that launched a fleet of paper boats.

Cathedrals and castles,

streams, wild flowers,

the gentle Scottish accent –

all in a flash

like the last line of a song

drowning in the goblet

in my hand.

Copyright ©2004 Francia C. Clavecillas Loch Lomond, Scotland