Sunday, January 09, 2011

The Living Have No Idea

The living have no idea

How old everything is,

Sunset of two days ago

Already ancient,

Buried in us who were there

Like the path through the field

Under a foot of new snow,

Like the memories of those lost ––

The sounds they made

They are making in us still,

Inspiring and bewildering

As we go forth together

Swinging our legs through the drifts.