A quiet and meditative piece, Riddles moves between the sensory impressions of travel and the reflective wonder of memory. Clouds, sand, and tidal pools become metaphors for distance and connection, suggesting that landscapes from far-flung places mingle in imagination and in the grains beneath our feet. With its subdued tones, the poem contemplates how fragments of the world drift together in memory, like souvenirs of earth and sky.
I nearly stepped on puffy clouds.
They floated on water the tide left behind.
Pulled like a shared duvet, tugged to the other
Side of the world to the beach at Waikiki,
Inviting itself to a luau.
Granted, the smell of Kalua roasted pig
Is hard to resist.
The sky was poised there, on the puddle.
Below it, a riddle.
Rippled ridges left by the waves to serve
As a memoir or to temporarily dupe us into
Thinking they really were still there.
And where was the souvenir
From Hawaii?
A sliver of pork, a flower from
A lei garland or even grains of exotic sand?
It makes me wonder about faraway beaches
And whether sand from the Skeleton Coast
Is mixed with our own Copper Coast sort.
Maybe even a dash of Caribbean stuff
For good measure?
I lay down on speckled pieces of the world
And I look at clouds from every side.
Catherine Power Evans