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Ian Ruderman

~ Poetry, Prose and Notes on the Novel

Ian Ruderman

Monthly Archives: July 2013

Lake View: A Poem About Growing Old

10 Wednesday Jul 2013

Posted by Ian Ruderman in Poetry

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I once overheard a conversation about people killing trees to get a better view of the water from their summer houses. I once spent a perfect weekend on Squam Lake. I saw loons and thought of Thoreau. I am not an old person, but some day I will be old.

 
Lake View
 
There is a town ordinance against cutting
down trees, so the locals drive metal spikes
into the heartwood and let time work,
 
let slow poison leech into fragile memory
through rings and snowdrifts and windstorms back
to when winter thaws brought a kind of hope
 
and cold snaps drew privates tight with fear,
a delirious icy fear that limbs
would fail and this one would be the last.
 
The gods stared down jealous then. Who
could be so alive, so vibrant with hidden life, so
bold with the power of supple wood?
 
But arms become weary and branches
drop. The lake grows and the mind addles.
We are an ancient relative always in the way,
 
means well, but sighs and trembles, forgets where
he is supposed to be and has stopped searching
for the pain, that searing in the lower back
 
that radiates through a body like hot iron
and is forgotten as a pair of loons
glide slowly across the cold grey water.
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Land and Sea: A Poem About My Body

09 Tuesday Jul 2013

Posted by Ian Ruderman in Poetry

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…my body.

Apparently, I complain about my aches and pains a little too much. Well, here’s a poem that takes a more lighthearted look at the topic.

 
Land and Sea
 
Scarred retina. Torn rotator cuff and
Labrum. Compressed disks. Runners knee.
Broken tibia. Achilles tendonosis.
Two well-healed stress fractures.
I am a map, a cartographers dream
Each new venture brings an
Undiscovered kingdom
A land of palm trees and savages
A fountain of youth and silver mines.
I may nurture my own disease
Stagger through the tropics of a
Mosquito infested imagination
But I am also trekking from the
Unknown and comfortable into a
State of wonder. In the dark heart
Of this El Dorado, I take no
Prisoners and harbor no delusions.
I am riding an old horse, a twitchy
Horse that farts and bites, that will not
Eat from my hand but will take my
Food and my blanket. I am sailing an old boat,
A leaky boat with foul bilge and fearless rats,
But my vigilance at the helm will be rewarded
When I stop at a shimmering caravanserai,
And find a jewel for my bride, a trinket
for my noisy children, a treasure
For the aging parents who gave me this
Imperfect fragile body and sent me
Over land and sea to discover its worth.

Book Covers

09 Tuesday Jul 2013

Posted by Ian Ruderman in Silly Stuff

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