Tracking the Remembrance of Touch

Memories of the Pleasure of your Company

all the translations gone
cultivatingly wild
through august all aster and goldenrod
dance sow thistle threads
and milkweed heads
bent and spread
dry stalk soon
bleached to a grey reserve
lent to the spent

hay dust in barn light explodes
and barn still stands

were i building
were i stoic
i would endure

more grasping your making

only to squander
the renderings
in the stray idiom
of our movement
cultivatingly wild

   Before   After

Tracking the Remembrance of Touch ©1996François Lachance