Friday, October 28, 2011

Wild Pears

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.


Kathleen said...

Oh, my. I can see and feel and even taste all of it!

Zhoen said...

Sometimes a hug comes
Out of nowhere, a surprize
A simple kindness.

Dale said...

Oh, I hope so, Zhoen! I felt bad about it -- maybe it was just one of those encroachments, like the ones extroverts perpetrate on introverts all the time -- "oh, *I* like chattering with people in noisy rooms, *everyone* must like it!"