SPRUNG FROM THE FREE PLAY OF THOUGHT
--for Anne
Basye
Fingers on piano keys leave melody
for the wild outside discovered by Ruth
walking through boundaries with Naomi.
With or without you, she will not ask
for permission. Who among us
would not think the air belongs to all?
The Russian poet never hesitates.
His neighbor turns him in for a second room.
Garden sanctuaries give us time
to hold small stones in our hands,
hand-polishing them for richer patina.
Each stone, river-shaped, broken,
broken-free, from somewhere far, becomes
instead of sand, when lifted, a song.
Jim
24 August 2019
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