The lake is borrowed light,
Its darkening waters
Lengthen into night;
Frail on the grazed field,
Emerald, or ermine,
Or sere as seasons yield,
You move toward the gate,
For long familiar,
Beyond which the Estate
Of Wilderness contains
Your lost Garden.
As long as there remains
Enough light to make out,
In cedars' shadow
Masking you without
Holding you, the one
Gesture recognized,
We remain, undone
By absence, but not grieving,
Witnessing one
Entering, leaving.
for D.H.C.
Richard Outram (1930 - 2005) Canada
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please keep your comments relevant and free from abusive language. Thank you. Note that comments are moderated so it may be a day or two before your comment is posted - irrelevant or abusive comments will not be published.