By Thomas Page

 

I visited the place where I was born when I was ten-ish.

Like most people my age it is a hospital.

A place frozen in that January for my family

However, many years ago you read this poem.

It is beige-looking

With a koi pond in the middle

Water enclosed in the pond

 

Water seems to figure into the story

It always starts out with water

“It was raining on that day”

Like the rain I came early

I think I was due on the feast of St. Agnes

But instead I came on St. Genevieve

White wave

Seine, English Channel, Hudson Bay, St. John, Colorado, Monterey

 

It wasn’t raining when I came back

But the place rang of water

Monterey is adjacent to the Pacific.

The water cools the coast

With chilled beaches and deer

Who walk around the apartment’s woods

 

The pond’s still there with its little koi

As it was there I was there

I could’ve taken a picture of the lobby with the koi pond

And it would have looked at same back then

Like a ship preserved in water.

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