Weary Passion

I had a dream of savage tenderness

That had us running east

Through rocky woods to reach the shore.

A fulgent winter light above,

An urgent humid wind behind,

But we kept falling through the mossy web

Of roots that overgrew the talus rocks

And tried to extricate each other

To reach the coast in time for what?

We never reached the shore.

The tangled roots would not support our flight.

We did, however, touch each other more than once.

In a dream of falling through.

Bill Schubart 1993