Tracking the Remembrance of Touch

Anniversaries: crystal, silver and porcelain

            kiln, crucible and stye
            we are all
            sown through

teller and told
except for his name

I would tumble

to see a man
late twenties     thirty    forty

to have caused
the smile

knowing the obit yet daring to probe
seconds later concerning
the young man in the photo on the mantle
to be answered
with crocci
on the bank where the horses don't trod
and a late spring visit back home
New Brunswick
hoping for the last blooms
to be the sight over ashes
a scant year ago

with gracious gestures
they took, translated
money for flowers for a grave
gracious gift
from one whom the news reached late
as the distance of ripples disturbs

would not be the same
he's got to
walk it

            from its banks
            water washes through
            boyhood trampled watershed
            St. John Valley to Grand Lake

I know other ashes spread
at a bend in the Grand River
where one played as a child
near Fergus, another river system
another spring, another man
swinging on

dipping splash

accuse us of not growing up, if you dare
we can still pull the best stories
from each other's lips
between kisses
and the babble
of sighs
in the mud of our bodily fluids
growing wings to wash in dust and ash

   Before   After

Tracking the Remembrance of Touch ©1996 François Lachance