River Light 3/5/2007 Walking across to crease these single rock cuts is when I can’t seem to get past the touch of you the way it brings me up again against these hard crushed stones the way it was when you used to wait for me or turned to walk away not walking beside me any more to see the way this deep white river flows into its own living, or the way this few minutes’ quiet miracle pool does not reflect grey sky any longer, where once we used to wait for each other, or walked beneath this cool and rising rain. We might have tried to come here earlier to find out how to love each other again against these harsh and chiming stones or to find how singly the way they grow so beautifully together has come to be so alive now, and left us all alone.

Poetry by William F. Buford Copyright © 2004-2007 William F. Buford. All Rights Reserved.