The deer rise high on their hind legs,
reaching for wild pears;
it's not that we do it well, Dr Johnson says,
it's that we do it at all.
I asked, too late, “do you do hugs?” – and you said
“I don't really, but I'm trying to learn” –
but by that time you were in my arms.
Oh, darling, I wish I could rewind,
and revoke the expectation.
I want to love you only and always
as you understand and want to receive it,
as deer receive the wild pears:
the sweetness at the limit,
where reach and grasp are one same thing.
In response to this Morning Porch post.