Remembrance is acknowledging that a life was lived ...
Always it has been the light and the trees, here
The evening sun leaving the pines, as it did then
And there in different pines, walnut and apple,
Sweet gum and plum; then following the horses
Across the pasture to the darkening barn where
I cut the hay bale's twine and tossed the flakes
Down from the dust and sweet smell of the loft.
Here and now in that same light and between
Two pines there is this single strand of - what
To call it since it is neither a web nor it seems
Even the interrupted intention of one; perhaps
It is simply the faith of this spider in a single
Gesture, the keeping in this moment of where
It has come a memory of where it has come from,
Not as a way of returning but of remembering,
As I do no less in the writing of these few words.
This dusk and then dark, a thin thread of moon.
Poetry by countryfog
Read 754 times
Written on 2015-09-18 at 01:09
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