Sunday, December 13, 2009

The Gentle Hug

The Gentle Hug

Ten years on Dad, I feel again the strength.
The weakness around my neck. Power of
the gentle hug. The water in the corner of
your eye. What I would give now to see it
the bales of hay, or the perch caught.
The spoon in the tea, the oil changed,
the ghost seen, the garden gardened,
or Helen discovered.

The phone answered. The clink of you
dropping screws into a jar labelled "screws".
Re-aligning that pendulum. Once I awoke
in the night. At the end of the hallway
I saw you cracking hazelnuts as though
only the snow falling outside knew
neither of us were sleeping.

c. Ciprianowords, Inc. 2009

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