If
If I did not carry you to me
Gently
weaving my minds imagination upon you
Like a photograph
Or go to hold you in my arms
Or carry this water to the rivers edge
Where you lay
And have always been
If I did not call attention to these things
My sweet imaginings of
That rest upon you
In my gentle kindling
Of birds wings
Somehow nesting
Somewhere
Making calling
Home over rough terrain
This emptiness
Would in these shells made mine
Echo back
To me
The muse
Of my yearnings
Turning
The swiftness of one life
Upon the untouched air
Unreachable
I could not define
You
who have rested here before me
After my dreams
Running wildly away
yvette m smith may 2009
poem by Yvette Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
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