Friday, April 12, 2019
IF YOU FIND ME
If you find me
in the sounds I make,
or don't make,
then you know my father
was tight-lipped, not
given to wasting
breath; and you know
there was a grove
and west of the grove
hog chores, and west
from there, the sun
going down on
a terrible
longing, a wanting
more than chores or grove
could settle. One
could not, standing
in it, know what that
wanting was. So,
if you found me
in the sounds I've made,
then -- please, I ask --
tell me what it is
I've been looking for.
