poems as hand- and foot-holds on a glass mountain

Conversations with Original Mind

               

In 50 years, she answers, though not asked

She wears a white lab coat 

     that filters but doesn’t to hide her light

I know God has no gender, but I’m a woman

     she says; her smile 

     melts the last few glaciers

We’d been speaking of ends and beginnings

     even of civilizations 

     as arbitrary

She had much to say off topic but gripping

I’d shake myself like a bear climbing out of a stream

     with a single trout in its mouth

I’d have to re-read but she remembers every reading

     as now and always

A moment of sunlight seen does not reveal nor conceal

     its long journey from the sun 

a drop of rain does not conceal nor reveal

its long journeys through streams, rivers, seas

     and through a thousand bodies

A gentle rain is falling

     she leans her head back

to keep a raindrop landed on her nose

     from moving on

she closes one eye to better taste its plenty

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