This blog contains 1000 posts. Posting to Blogger with such a large archive has become unwieldy. Also, your blogista, who is sewing a kesa, is not writing much at present. She has ceased adding new posts. Still-active links are here.

Friday, March 03, 1995

It finds you

It finds you

It finds you when it wants you, not before:
This time it found him among three dozen strangers
gathered to watch the earth eclipse the moon.

"There you are: let's go see the house we built
years ago, when first we settled on this land."
He followed her, watching the rhythm of her hips,

envying her husband, as she strode easy among
the white barked alders, setting aside
tall bracken with her hands. She showed

the house, its drunken roof. He drank in
every word, not to hear her sorrows, but to love
her voice. She bent among weeds, small hands

uprooting something small. "Here: you need
to take this home with you; water it good, okay?"
He stood desiring her, and not her apple mint,

holding the first of his gardens in his hand.


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