I wish I could use
\na mountain-climbing image:
\nit would describe the feeling
\nall hanging by my fingernails
\nover a gaping inevitability.<\/p>\n
But I have never climbed a mountain
\nof any consequence; any attempt
\nto use a mountain-climbing image
\nwould fall short, just as I would
\nfall long had I tried to climb a mountain.<\/p>\n
Instead, I have to depend on water
\nflowing by in the river — that’s something
\nI do have in my poetic arsenal; I have
\nplenty of river experience.<\/p>\n
Today, a group of us stood by the river
\nto commemorate the end of another summer.
\nThe water was dark and rough, kind of
\nlike the summer; yet there were times that the sun
\netched the water in silver and deepest sapphire.
\nThere were times the sky was heart-aching,
\nsoul-kissing blue, and the trees impossible
\nreds, yellows, ochres — more than flames,
\nmore than leaves, more than matter.<\/p>\n
And so, I sit here in town, watching the water
\nflow by in memory. And I can see in the water
\na lifetime of summers that have flowed by
\nas summers will flow by, inhabited by children
\nwho drift by again and again, a little older each time,
\na little wiser, each leaving a brief indentation
\nin the surface of the river that flows on
\ntowards the city in the heart-aching,
\nsoul-kissing blue.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Closing the cottage can be inspirational and surprising. (#938) Continue reading