They say you are from far away
yet to me you seemed,
all along, so close
Even then, when I knew
only the exquisite flutter of each
of your minuscule fingers,
I imagined their lines and demarcations,
their intricate topography
as the map of a familiar country
Even then, when I pictured you
in those blurred fragments
they were glimpses
of an alien landscape
you were someone else
not in my image
Even now, as I hold you
and whisper
you are mine, you are mine
I think of that distant world
they say you come from
they say you belong to
I can only hope to meet you halfway
carry me with you
I am yours, I am yours
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i have been absent for a while, debra, and in catching up over several of your recent poems, i am struck by the depth and reach of your poetic voice. like reading a charles simic boook, so sparse and quiet, yet resonant with a wellspring of feeling, to digest more than one at a time grows more worthy of the reading.
ReplyDeletekeep 'em coming!