class: LA 312.OL1, Fall 2005
instructor: Tom Molanphy
student: Carole Belliveau
Grace
We were young enough to feel newly free
High on speed we
Careened down ice cream ski slopes.
We shared girl talk, and raucous and unruly
Spilled into the car for the long trip home.
Sudden warmth and sway of soft motion
Dimmed our vision to starlight, and
Soft rock became sweet lullaby as we
Sped moonless into night.
A change of rhythm woke us to a
Labyrinth of lights
Could this be Dreamland?
Tangled dreams don't inch along,
But go at warp speed into the unknown and
Do not pause for anyone.
Outside the window, as if in swarmed spotlight
A doe was down
Forearms crossed carefully before her in a
Gesture of supplication.
The traffic flow a circle of curiosity around her,
Legs crushed to dust
She seemed to struggle forward in
Blood shot snow.
Blinded by headlights, stunned by what?s missing
She looked for any hunters gun and rack to embrace, and
Finding none
She kept her patient vigil
Silently.
And so in slow motion
We steered around her
And did not speak of it, but kept
The image safe for future proof, of
What is pain and
What is suffering, and
What is a full measure of grace.