THE RIDER AND HIS SHADOW

It was good to be alive then,
And that is all
To say or write about it.

Argentina, 2011









Its not sad, you don’t have to agree,
But I cannot make it any more clear
To me or to you:
The pain of the rides into wind,
Wind descending, wind ascending,
Just words--
So many things the pictures and poems.
The sweat the dust the last push around the turn
But the climb continued and my heart sunk.
You cannot know that
And already I cannot remember.

Because there is no record, there is no way to keep this,
To collect it as so many things.

She will age and be gone, the dog will die before you do,
You wanted to conserve it and you tried.
But there will be new days.
The sun will make them.
And if the rider rides,
There will be a shadow.