THE PATH
by Sharon Portnoff
You had found a path
We passed the water flow balancing on the log
Looking but not at the stream far below
Like the time we’d crossed the trestle railroad tracks
High as we were
And the train blaring as it neared and no room to step aside
And looking but not as each for himself ran forward or
Back
Here
High as we were
Following the flowing water on the path you had found
And at the end of your path we arrived at a cabin
You read a note: it is mine but use it
Three days of beans and water and outhouses and poems
You would build me a house
You didn’t know how but you would read
It was what I always wanted
But what was I
To read
Copyright © 2011 by Sharon Portnoff.