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i. we drove north on highway six the night a perfect black close about us with neither moon nor stars to shine their light and cut the darkness ii. the pines hovered at the very edge of the narrow road making a long, dark tunnel when, after a curve just north of Nisswa, we emerged suddenly in to a birch stand iii. the car lights caught the white birch bark which reflected the light an eerie white stand of bright, white birch in a pitch black night the trees on either side rising in a gentle slope iv. i heard the breath catch in every passenger and then, just as suddenly, we are come upon an automobile accident v. the glitter of broken windshield glass flashed in the car headlights as i stop a car had wrapped about a pole, the driver's door open vi. soon, the drama was over we got in the car to drive home the whine of the tires on road filled the silent cabin the white lines of the road the white birch trees with their black shadows the far-away moon in the sky exactly over the road, seemed now living their own life apart and incomprehensible, yet very near to man vii. it was the beginning of April after a warm spring day the night had cooled a faint touch of frost fell the breath of spring felt in the soft, chilly air the highway ran endlessly through the northern woods viii. on both sides of the road the night was lit by the the headlights and birch trees in the brilliant, peaceful moonlight night and all were silent sunk in thought everything around seemed kindly, youthful, akin, everything--trees and sky, and even the moon, and one longed to think that so it would be always.
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Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 9:52 AM UTC
an incident in a birch stand on Highway 6, 1997
i. we drove north on highway six the night a perfect black close about us with neither moon nor stars to shine their light and cut the darkness ii. the pines hovered at the very edge of the narrow road making a long, dark tunnel when, after a curve just north of Nisswa, we emerged suddenly in to a birch stand iii. the car lights caught the white birch bark which reflected the light an eerie white stand of bright, white birch in a pitch black night the trees on either side rising in a gentle slope iv. i heard the breath catch in every passenger and then, just as suddenly, we are come upon an automobile accident v. the glitter of broken windshield glass flashed in the car headlights as i stop a car had wrapped about a pole, the driver's door open vi. soon, the drama was over we got in the car to drive home the whine of the tires on road filled the silent cabin the white lines of the road the white birch trees with their black shadows the far-away moon in the sky exactly over the road, seemed now living their own life apart and incomprehensible, yet very near to man vii. it was the beginning of April after a warm spring day the night had cooled a faint touch of frost fell the breath of spring felt in the soft, chilly air the highway ran endlessly through the northern woods viii. on both sides of the road the night was lit by the the headlights and birch trees in the brilliant, peaceful moonlight night and all were silent sunk in thought everything around seemed kindly, youthful, akin, everything--trees and sky, and even the moon, and one longed to think that so it would be always.
[The last three stanzas adapted from the short-story "The Bishop" by Anton Chekov ]
john-mahoney
Written by
john-mahoney
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 9:52 AM UTC
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