In an instant–
In an instant
all I can remember are the shapes
of his fingers pulled
from the water, digits big
as cigars, and, though they curved
as I caught the arm, sodden under the shirt cuff, streaming
sleeve of suit,
the effect was of someone raising his hand
to ask a question–
I can only think of the one I had been calling out
the long blue minutes before, which still rebounded
about the floating surfaces, a stone caught
in a single skip–
where are you?
******************
A rather enigmatic poem.
The pic, such as it is, is mine; as with the poem, all rights reserved.
ManicDDaily 
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