Slow. Simple word and often used in disparaging ways. Let us slow the scenery speeding by. Take my hand and show me the sapling Which the towering white oak shelters. Whisper in my ear about the hiding place of the deer. Lift me just a few feet from the ground …
I now know much, my love
Your hands still strong but less safe in my mind.
“They’ve kissed in public. Kissed, not pecked.”
One more time, one last time, come with me to see the ghosts of Huron,
The long boat’s crack and wreck feel the labor of silent men and women in a world
That doesn’t pretend to know or understand.
Did he scrape the scrape of the sores God allowed?
Does the servant never cower now?
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