Ripple

The blog is silent and I am thinking of you...is there a way I can send a ripple into the reality being felt right now. And so one of Don's books of poetry fell into my hands and these fragments  -

Here between answer
and nothing, I stand, in the old shoes
flowed over by rainbows of hen-oil,
each shoe holding the bones
that ripple together in the communion
of the step
and that open out
in front into toes, the whole foot trying
to dissolve into the future.

and if you commit then, as we did, the error
of thinking
one day all this will only be memory,

learn to reach deeper
into the sorrows
to come - to touch
the almost imaginary bones
under the face, to hear under the laughter
the wind crying across the black stones. Kiss
the mouth
that tells you, here,
here is the world. This mouth. This laughter. These temple bones.

A New Selected Poems by Galway Kinnell