A Place of Morning by Luis Garcia

painting by Jane Booth

2003, 32 pages



A  P L A C E  O F  M O R N I N G



He woke in the middle of his favorite dream

thinking to dream this dream once more quickly.

The quickness with which the whole thing

as he now called it had occurred truly amazed him

a maze of events all taking the shape of a single story

or in this case a single dream.


So now he comes to this morning, this place of dreams,

still morning. Now the sound of a bell

takes shape in the distance. Now a stage

and a series of events take their shapes from shapelessness.

And so the dream itself continues.


Empty places, traces of a cold wind,

a movement toward a place of morning,

a moment there to dream of other mornings—


And so the other mornings also come and go,

one inside the other.  And so this morning

also comes and goes deep inside itself,

a place of dreams, a place of other mornings.


Now he wakes inside another place.

The time is morning. The house is cold.

A cold wind traces a pattern

across the windows of yet another house.

Outside in the dark trees bits and pieces

of sunlight suddenly appear.

Now a sunlit room and the presence

of another person moving in that room

also suddenly appear. This place, he thinks,

this place is truly a place of morning.



T H E  S T A I N S

for Pam and Barbara



The black and blue stains

force their way

through the green veins.


The leaf of my disbelief

falls to the ground.

It barely makes a sound.


A bell of water begins to toll

at the center

of an invisible bowl.


Now I can see the birds of night.

Now I can understand their mysterious flight.

Now I can hear their dark call


as they quickly disappear

into the morning light.