Tuesday, August 24, 2004

from Prologue: For Gavin, My Son

. . .

and even here you are the patient one

leading by gesture and grace

small arm raised from convulsions

soft hand touching my face

tiny fingers stroking my cheek

and a look       even here in hell

a look       from the mist of your

absence       of love.

(Body and Soul New and Selected Poems | John Livingstone Clark)