I want to define with whom I speak
When I call out his name:
A wordless effigy.
But, I do not. Listen instead
To the wind and its trailing silence.
Still down to the dirt on knees
To feel the cool damp flesh
That tumbles through fingers
Pealing me away bit by bit
Back into the man bit by bit
I met when I stood on that rock,
A shadowed boy who saw a view
Of mountains and trees, and heard
In the wind’s trailing silence
Words that are no longer needed.
Written after reading Rilke’s ‘I have many brothers who wear light cassocks’ from Book of Hours as translated by Edward Snow, published by North Point Press in New York, 2009.
(C) Stephen Fuller, 2019