In Her Sunday Best
©Regis Auffray
There she is in her Sunday best
blue dress
she said she was saving for a special day
At last she's wearing it
though she did not put it on
herself
They've closed her blue eyes
blue like the dress
she never wore
blue like the sea
she never saw
Sleeping there
in her velvet-lined skiff
She'll float away
across the bright gravestones
like whitecaps
in the sun of August
towards the infinite sea
of the sky
The Tree / L'arbre ©Regis Auffray
(I lived the death of a
dear tree, an
ancient hawthorn
actually).
A giant
by the water's edge
forever it seemed
had stood tall and proud
Birds nested in its thick
hair
and slept the nights
along its mighty arms
Creatures of field and
forest
rested in its bosom
and sheltered there from
the storms
Fish shadow-bathed
in its silhouette
hiding from the sun
as the river sang on its
way to the sea
The man came and cut
down the tree
Sap ran like blood to the
earth
The man sat on the
stump of the giant
The man laughed
The birds and the fish
vanished
as did the creatures
from field and forest
The river weeps
L'Arbre (French
version) ©Regis Auffray
Un géant
au bord de l'eau
depuis toujours semblait
grand et fier
Les oiseaux nichaient
dans sa chevelure
et dormaient la nuit
perchés le long de ses
bras
Les êtres des bois et
des champs
se reposaient au sein
de son existence
protégés du temps
inclément
Les poissons se
baignaient
dans sa silhouette
protégés du soleil
brûlant
des midis inconscients
La rivière chantait son
chemin
vers la mer
L'homme est venu
Il a coupé l'arbre
La sève
comme du sang
a coulé au sol
L'homme s'est assis
satisfait
sur le tronc
du géant
L'homme a ri
Les oiseaux sont partis
Les créatures des bois
et des champs aussi
La rivière pleure
No Place To Stop
©Regis Auffray
Like the poet from the
past
Whose name brings to
mind
Images of frozen fields
on silver mornings,
I wanted to stop by
woods
On a snowy evening,
But I could not find
woods
And the snow felt like
ashes.
So I went to the lake
But the lake was a lie;
A mirage rippled
On its tarmac surface.
So I went to the river
But the river was dry
And its bed was red
Like the surface of
Mars.
So I went to the sea
But the waves were
caustic
And a sign said,
"Beware,
Walk here if you dare."
So I looked to the sky
But the sky was not
there;
Just an edge on the eve
of beyond,
And no place to stop
Moon Smile ©Regis
Auffray
The moon is bright this
night.
It seems to smile
sardonically
at me
and tufts of brittle grass
in frozen fields of snow,
while in the woods
nearby,
its cold shine greets the
bony branches
of skeletal winter trees.
Its spectral moonbeams
cast shadows
under these sleeping
sentinels.
So still and silent is the
night
that footsteps crushing
snow
seem almost
sacrilegious ?
a sin to spoil the
stillness and the snow.
I turn my footsteps
homeward
and as I do it seems
I feel the cold moon
sneer
and hear a quiet sigh
from hushed and
speechless sentries.
