I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

10 July 2008

Verse Portrait 12. Thanks for the Memory

It wasn’t the rite before the altar
but the way, next morning
when I fell over that damn rock,
you picked me up and held me.

"I’m OK," I kept saying, "I’m not hurt,"
as if I didn’t want to lean
forever against your chest.

You’d slept all night by the fire,
I in your truck. You told
of waking, watching
a red eagle soar from the trees.

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