I found you
alone and skating in the dark;
clouds in the sky - the moon behind them
dimming the stars and pulling the wind out of the corners.
you looked back at me
not afraid but new to life, somehow,
and strong
so strong.
every night after that
my eyes would falter, and start to close
as I walked behind you
softly, so as not to wake you
to the pain, the fear that surrounded us,
we both so tired of being brave...
in my mind I kissed you
and breathed you in;
stopped always
by a jagged line of nothing in the ice,
and me far too heavy to cross that patch of frozen water.
you walked with head-up caution
glancing now and then at my regard -
your interest beaming back to me
like a flashlight
like a beacon
too intense to do anything but tell me the truth.
over coffees later, you told me of your past,
while I looked at your good face
and ate your words like candy,
your kids in bed, waiting, in dreams,
for the two of us to become friends.
our lives a mystery
interwoven, strands of many textures, colors,
and I was far too lost in the corners of your eyes.
in time the warm rays of the sun
made passage by boat across the strait
the only way to you;
the ice receded and in our fond poverty
we would wave from opposite shores,never sure when we might talk again.
later, in warmth and seclusion I thought of you -
closed my eyes and wished you well -
too weak to swim to the island
where you stayed year by year.
and missed you
how I missed you
and held you near in memory.
we're older now
and here we are, in this house -
tired but alright -
after falling through the ice finally,
but protected by our friends;
you and I and catching hold
of their life preservers.
floating to the surface, we laughed and held each other
and whispered over and over,
"it's alright now, we're cold but we can swim -
carry each other if that's what it takes."
and we swam
laughing, crying,
while your children waited on your shore
and I looked back at mine, at their shining faces,
while they stood and waved
from the mainland.
now winter's over, and new things grow
where before there was nothing
but snow.
in love too fragile and omnidirectional
swimming in guileless truth
we make for the island
and dream our good, good dreams,
family, fire and fondness.
(November 1998)
.jpg)
