Amid the running

Listen.
I brought it home turned low,
smuggled low in my chest,
in my gut.

Who held, and was held
once in a lifetime —
once in a lifetime
and always.

Who looked into my eyes, who took my look
once in a lifetime —
once in a lifetime
and always.

Rails.
A bridge.
Once in a lifetime.

Whose hands are my hands,
whose eyes are my eyes,
who has
always
looked into my eyes, who will
always
look into my eyes.

Rain.
A bridge.
Once in a lifetime.

A roofless church,
a leaf-lighted shrine,
a tower. Spiral. Stare.

Whose mouth is an outline, a plan
Whose eyes and hands make a circle
Whose circle completes
my eyes
Whose hands define
my mouth.

Brought it home.
Amid the running.
A place where we walk by the water.
A dream-calm tarn, a
slow-motorcade river. A waiting,
continuing,
thoroughgoing sea.

A castle, weathering, stumbling, its
breaking body
the pattern.

Where we walk, where we are still, where we dance
once in a lifetime —
once in a lifetime
and always.

Amid the running.

Listen. There’s a gull. It knows.

What do you think?