I Was Formed By

Airforce Brat Series | Kristen Lenea Ryberg

Play to listen to the audio version plus a little commentary.

Dark water slapping 
the shore of Lake Millinocket
by squatting beside a campfire
the embers glow-through to pop
pulsing their heat trance.

I was formed by Dad’s silhouette 
cigarette's red, a beacon
as he stands, smoke shrouded
staring into the night-lake-shimmer.

I was formed by morning water fog, 
unveiling the moose, an unlikely lake god
he stands torso deep,  
dripping moss drapes his castled head
I hear the liquid sluice off his long moose nose.

I was formed by drawing the canoe paddle out of the water
to keep silence for loon’s translation,
by orders to clean the fresh caught brim and bass
I held their silver-scaled struggle,
the frantic gulping; the terrible chore. Sometimes
let one slip, plop back to bucket.

I was formed by the sting of black flies
and buttercups held under my chin 
the yellow reflected, I was loved.

EARS UP!