Text: Poem John Dickson
How could I have known
on that December speck
of my mind’s dark well
that the touch of lips in the frosty air
would cling like a hand to a frozen pump through the spun out years
of my long remembering?
How could I have known
on that day lost now
in the fuzz of time
when the wind-whipped waves
of the eye blue lake
blotted out tracks in the sun-warm sand that the walk we walked would last this long without a footprint showing?
How could I have known
on that warm-washed day
of a time drowned year
when the wind blew words through the two tall pines
that we’d be sustained in the same green way, and that those who listened to
the wind could hear the words between us?
2002, published in Arsenic Lobster. Reprinted with permission.
PERFORMANCE SUGGESTIONS: “Stages of Love Group”
Friendship 1:31
Love Song 3:29
Hearthfire 2:30
The Pines 4:19