Should The Question Beg For Answer
will the water be beautiful?
will I thank every drop of the sea?
the sky, will it be so blue,
I’ll find ships sailing in the clouds?
and emerald and hawthorn
would I lay down there again?
rise to wander mists by fairy lakes
secret women drift in sleek wolfhound shapes
lead by old and limping men
between hedgerow and dirt lanes
speak with mallard fox and swan
their stories told of long ago
when black cats and tabby cats,
small black terriers through stone walls and brier
sure and steady tacked
all possibility of horses
one day when we were on our second year back in America, Shelly turned to me and asked “Do you think we should go back?” I immediately wrote this poem, after saying “Yes. Today. “