|It took some time to get the hang of
I took your hand and led you to the reef.
So beautiful to handle you again
As when you were a child, or as when
I toweled you when you had hurt your hands.
We hung above the brains, vanilla branches,
Purple membranes laced with spider holes,
Bright yellow fish with philosophic foreheads,
Barracuda motionless as words.
Not often anymore are you my child,
Nor can I give you new life every day.
Yet here, again, I held you in the silence,
And it became too much to be what is.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon