On Our Way

On Our Way
By Rebecca Clark

We are waylaid at a twist

in the narrow island road
by an array of enormous

silver mobiles: rotating
spheres, cycling cups,

diamond-shapes that arc
on thin metal arms

and beckon us from trees.

Stricken with their glimmer,

their languid swim through cedar
in the afternoon light, we are lured

up the road to a grassy park
where silver beings tower

twenty feet up. Bolted to earth
or strung between trees,

they are stirred by the breeze,
as they bow and stretch

in mechanical tai chi.
We wander, fallen into

some divergent dimension.
Even the resident dog that shepherds us

seems outside the ordinary.

We leave with a teardrop

that will spin, jewelry for the larch
in the turnaround, a twirling reminder

of moving beyond margins.

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Document last modified on: 01/06/2007

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