Vox Populi
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Laure-Anne Bosselaar: To the Marine Fog
Look, I might not have woken up early enough
to watch you hang your rags over the hedge,
or loiter in the yard’s waning night, but I’m here
now — so linger by my window a little. Stay.
Blur nature’s palette a while longer, fade the jay’s
coat & the fern’s jade — & wait for me.
I’ll come walk inside you, wrapped in my gray scarf,
drizzled, breathing in your ocean whiffs —
stay. Soak the yard with mizzle before the sun
blisters it away & light blasts us all with
what will be the colors-of-the-day. Kelp-breather,
mother-of-gray, mist-maker, dew-weeper — stay.
Copyright 2024 Laure-Anne Bosselaar
Laure-Anne Bosselaar is a Belgian-American poet, translator, professor, and former poet laureate of Santa Barbara, California. Her collections of poetry include Lately: New and Selected Poems (Sungold, 2024).
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Dear Laure-Anne, Late to the party, I’m only now seeing this marvelous poem. I am compelled! I need to go walk by the sea right now! Mid-afternoon, there is no morning fog, but it’s the closest I can come to the lush feeling I carry with me now, direct from you. I’ve done the knee too. I know, I know. As I write, you heal. As best you can, let go the pain, psychic and physic, take in all the love, all the gifts received… and now I must go out to walk as close to the sea as I can get. Looking forward to seeing you on your new knee. And, oh, to compare war stories! But now to the sea…
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“I’ll come walk inside you, wrapped in my gray scarf” —So beautiful.
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Beautiful poem, Laure-Anne. And I hope you heal swiftly!
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That’s very beautiful. Makes one long for the sea.
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Yes, we love Laure-Anne’s poems!
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Thank you all from a hospital bed where I’m recovering from a knee replacement 5 days ago — your kindness for this little love-poem to lightness does help the healing…
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Oh, Laure-Anne. I hope you recover soon. So many people love you and your poems.
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Blur nature’s palette a while longer, fade the jay’s
coat & the fern’s jade…
Lovely!
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Yes, it is.
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So lovely dear heart! And I’ve heard you read this as well. I’m heading home from Salt Lake City and a week of “Cowboy Poetrying” to find you here as I await my flight, already, I’m in the air—who needs a plane?
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Lovely, Sean. Thank you.
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Such a beautiful poem! Love this one, Michael!
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Thanks, Susan. I’ve loved Laure-Anne’s poems for a long time.
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This poem reminded me of a time when I lived in La Jolla, California–when the coastal mist cleared about 10 a.m. and came in again in late afternoon.
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Sounds like the beginning of a poem, Arlene. I hope you write about that time.
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I smell the salt air in this. Beautiful.
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Me too, Carlene. You’ve expressed the sensory quality of the poem perfectly.
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What a lovely poem. How odd that even in the year of its appearance it evokes an earlier time, when nature seemed to offer approbation rather than furious rebuke.
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Perceptive and well-said, Warren. Thank you.
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Kelp-breather,
“mother-of-gray, mist-maker, dew-weeper” – if I didn’t know it was you – I’d have known. Gorgeous, Laure-Anne, thank you.
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Yes, thank you.
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