Flash (Another Alaska Photograph) #2

We owe them this sunlight / moon
/ and something
besides flat speech     / besides
the glint we read

on the long guns and northern plenty
/ these paths
where they crossed     — made more
because we're passing

where they crossed them —
imagining his hand —
sharing her own like novelty —
his hand

and her own wrapped round
their cold and standing barrels.
Until there is room for history
/ room for us listening

or asking one another what they've hunted —
among their pines
/ our own     — and the pines
he'd dropped

because he'd hoped to make a cabin.
Love for him     ( I think )
( in the sweat )  must seem as much
surprise as destiny —

shaping the stories told —
and rooms
where the half-year's shadows
moved before them —

with pictures and film we've saved —
that we might be close
and know the nature
of some talents —

seeing to lyrics and autumn roses
while she's busy —
gardening in evening's blush
or come out

into moonlight     / out to the stars
just starting
to appear here after midnight —
with weddings ahead

the stillness     / the century
and moment
span     — where everything
I have owed you

comes to prosper     / and
all your gazing
comes to welcome
in the flash!

 

© Appetite (2)