at each other. He is wondering
just where in this bright, blue-faced world
he might be safe. He wants to go on with the
flow of his life. So he straightens
his shining back and drops
from the rock and rockets through
the tangle of weeds; he slides over
my bare foot; he vanishes
into the shade and the tall grass, down to
some nameless stream, having
startled me in return. But these were both
small matters. What I would speak of, rather,
is the earnestness of his actually fragile and
nervous body; the ardent glare of his eyes.