Something Passes Through
Something passes through the fingers of friends
whose yearning for touch exceeds the instinct not to touch.
In warm sunshine, with arms resting on beach chairs
and crickets keeping rhythm to tidal lapping,
something sparks between those sun-warmed fingers.
Unlike the glacier-pressed body of Long Island,
the bodies of these friends are fluid;
they lean toward each other,
despite best efforts to remain apart.
Unlike the heavy, sea-smoothed granite boulders
sprinkled with sunbathers and riotous towel colors,
these bodies move--like the tide--toward, then away from, each other.
There is acute pain in that tidal movement--
the kind of pain that blocks the flow of life-giving energy,
the kind of pain that calls into question the confidence of friendship,
the kind of pain that does not pass through, but
something passes through the fingers of friends.
whose yearning for touch exceeds the instinct not to touch.
In warm sunshine, with arms resting on beach chairs
and crickets keeping rhythm to tidal lapping,
something sparks between those sun-warmed fingers.
Unlike the glacier-pressed body of Long Island,
the bodies of these friends are fluid;
they lean toward each other,
despite best efforts to remain apart.
Unlike the heavy, sea-smoothed granite boulders
sprinkled with sunbathers and riotous towel colors,
these bodies move--like the tide--toward, then away from, each other.
There is acute pain in that tidal movement--
the kind of pain that blocks the flow of life-giving energy,
the kind of pain that calls into question the confidence of friendship,
the kind of pain that does not pass through, but
something passes through the fingers of friends.
posted by Judy at 9:49 PM
2 Comments:
You are such an honest writer, Judy! This doesn't feel like your best work, but it is just so intimately and engagingly you (and all of us!)! Thanks!
Something (or someone) passes through,
and we don't know why,
nor what it (he) will do.
We can ask the question forever -
it (he) may answer never.
That doesn't really make sense,
but I don't care! Well, it does for me. I have just answered your poem with one of my own - a poem-within-a-poem:). Great one, J!
-adrienne:) ~Lit Chick~
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