TONSET ROAD


Listen, to bramble, pine and cove; 

Heron and the lapse of empty sailboats; 

Stones, acorns and swooshing grass. 

Tonset Road,

the rushing in of parenthood,

waters white-capping,

overhead and within. Something

under the surface exists

in one long inhale.  

Tap in.

Tap in.

Tap in.

One triangle

cuts the blue cove.

I suppose

I could end here.

Bright orange hat,

blue blanket,

I see them

through the glass

of a sliding door.

Black suit,

holding a body.

A mother’s body.

Curved, soft, 

pale for September.

I thought,

I’d sit

on the Adirondack

over hardhack,

over grass.

Listening to crickets,

and the hum

of a bedroom fan.

Somebody walks

along

the shore.

His sunglasses

are warm

blooded

and his polo

is short.

Fairies exist;

My family

isn’t dying

to know

my occupation,

at dinner

over bread.

Why don’t we speak,

when we talk?

Do you know,

they’re not listening?

      

Sophistication,

I might try

and fit that

into baby’s mouth.

and feathers?

Stuff it thick

in fatty milk,

during an afternoon

drowsy

feed

ing,

      

how well

are you feeling them

on momma’s favorite sweater?

Why do I speak differently

than I paint?

Do I remove peas,

make spit-up

more safe?

Red-faced cry 

with no teeth,

she’s cute when she

side-smiles 

then goes back to sleep. 

Fiona's breath moving

her body up

then down.

Rain

falling

down

window.

I try napping to

this tumult

on shore.

The

whole

house

waking.

Being.

Be,

ing.

Remember feeling

textile. Remember

laughing

with K, L, M. 

Remember

the color pink.

Remember

the rising sun,

over water.

              The rising sun

over water,

lovely water

guide me

in towards reflection,

why is it that we dance 

like rocking chairs, and we sing 

like helms,

wind creaking

through a broken window.

Curse the day you were not born.

There isn’t a moment

you weren’t alive,

here now,

all around.

Glory, the sun!

B e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e e 

ing

I am a bee,
        COO?

Torment no body.

I walk outside

and notice

how green

the grass looks. At the water,

I think I am enough. I see a stone.

I ask what its purpose is to me. I see moss

growing on it. Waves wiping away shells

that clung to it. I wonder how to create

like it, in water, with water, of water. 

I, stone.

Stone, I.

We belong.

I am.

Explore more videos, photos, and collective media at

colleenjaggivisual.com/Tonset Road.

Acknowledgments

Thank you to the Lavelle family for your generous welcome to Tonset Road. 

Thank you Holly Wren Spaulding, Kat Farrell-Davis, and the poets at Salt Lines Retreat in Maine for your ear and encouragement.

To Angad, and little Fi, for believing in the unseen.

Collected Media of Tonset Road

Explore photos and videos of Tonset Road.

Tonset Road

September 2024

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Let Her, A Letter

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In November, The Shed