2005-04-11 - 5:49 a.m.
Tenuousness
(for Edith)
Maybe
Our being is too largely illusive.
Even the rocks seem unreal
As I edge to the gorge.
Once, I held your hand,
Resisting the bottomward pull
While you strained for the abyss
To pluck asters from the shale wall.
I shiver even now, remembering.
This morning the dogs and I took a walk in the woods.
I thought of you only
After hearing two raucous crows
Reconnoitering. One,
Then another, still in my memory,
Skim the bare treetops,
Becoming equal parts mist
And sky.
