Thursday, December 29
IF YOU SAW ME WALKING If you saw me walking one more time on the island you would know how much the end of August meant to me; and if you saw me singing as I slid over the wet stones you would know I was carrying the secret of life in my hip pocket. If my lips moved too much you would follow one step behind to protect me; if I fell asleep too soon you would cover me in light catalpa or dry willow. Oh if I wore a brace you would help me, if I stuttered you would hold my arm; if my heart beat with fear you would throw a board across the channel, you would put out a hand to catch me, you would carry me on your back. If you saw me swim back and forth through the algae you would know how much I love the trees floating under me; and if you saw me hold my leaf up to the sun you would know I was still looking for my roots; and if you saw me burning wood you would know I was trying to remember the smell of maple. If I rushed down the road buttoning my blue shirt--- if I left without coffee---if I forgot my chewed-up pen--- you would know there was one more day of happiness before the water rose again for another year. (Gerald Stern)