I Can’t Imagine
(For the girl in the doorway)

By g.l.bass (the ghostbear still lives)
1999 rewrite 7/2001

I can’t imagine being
Anyplace other than
Where I am,
Here.
The sun at my back,
The Ocean crashing,
Atop long fingers of
Dark cement jetty,
Rushing against stony
Walled shore.

Whitecaps leaping
Up over barriers,
Spraying raindrops that
Block even the hot,
Blistering, island sun
For moments at a time,
Washing clean
Anyone who dares
Walk the narrow street.

I can’t imagine doing
Anything other than
Standing on the beach,
Open to sun, and wave,
On secret mission
To capture one single frame,
One single second,
One small piece of time,
Lost in a moment of passion,
Waiting for you
To turn,
Twist,
Drop your hands,
Raise your eyes,
Change who you are
In that solitary instant
That I stopped your life
All upon happenstance.

And you,
Without knowing,
Change everything
I’ve felt about
What beauty is,
Was, and will be.
This day,
Wandering
Alone

In a lost island town
Where discoveries are ancient,
And awakenings of the heart
A daily walk in the sun.

I can’t imagine
Thinking any other thought
Than measuring in my mind,
Perfect curvature,
Each piece by piece,
This real life mosaic,
You are
The center of,
Without knowing,
Without feeling,
Without seeing,
All around you
Even the sun dips
Low to peek
A glimpse of
This art made in
Real time
Just before
The end of the day.

I can’t imagine
The craftsman,
The giver of life,
The deliverer of death,
Being any other place
Than in your shop,
Reading one of your books,
About life beneath
Vast emerald oceans,
Sipping
One of your
Local island coffees
From a large clear glass mug,
Seeing you through
The glass, And
In that split second,
I wonder if
The chill runs up and down
His chest through the
Middle of his heart,
Into the bottom of his groin.
Is that single instant,
More than
Real life,
Real love,
Or just his closed- eye reaction,
To beauty in his imagination?

I Can’t imagine
The craftsman,
The giver of life,
The deliverer of death,
Not touching you,
As he brushes past you
Turning his eyes
To stare at
A lone man,
Standing lens in hand,
Hidden only by
Shadows adrift
Out of peeking sundown,
And thinking
The same thought
About you,
And wondering
The same question
About you,
As I am.

Only to take
One final snapshot look,
(Just for art’s sake)
Then disappearing,
Out of the picture,
Leaving that last
Sundown painted instant,
Measured by only
The passion of quick
One finger tip
Pushes,
To me
And my camera.