the open gate
throughout my life
I have been taught
what every farm child learns
close the gate as you go through
how many times have I ignored
that sound advice?
many times
chasing ponies
tails held high
through my mother’s flower bed
or down the twisting
Quaker Bottom Road
once, living here, I thought
I’ll just be a second
no need to fasten the gate
and ended up spending
the entire morning meeting
all my neighbors
on the ridge
excuse me, have you seen a llama?
Did you happen to see where he went?
on the last morning
your legs
can no longer
hold you
you eat
your morning grain
kushed in squashed grasses
fifty yards from the barn
but, when Trevor comes
you decide you are not going
to let me
put your purple halter
over your head
you move faster
than you have moved
in a long while
am I mistaken?
is this too soon?
are you not ready?
I am dumbfounded
turn to look at Trevor
leaning lazily against
the farm wagon
a wan smile creasing
his handsome face
happens all the time
he watches us, you standing
defiantly six feet away
head up, ears pricked
as I hold out your bucket of grain
gauging the steps between us
I’ll run back to the office
check on some things
be back
I’ll hide my things he calls
over his shoulder
smart man
you watch Trevor drive
out of the driveway
watch me saunter
back to the house
then you move into the barn
toward your bucket of grain
I sprint
like you, faster than I have moved
in a long while.
I get behind you
I close the gate
you turn
we stare
your dark, enormous eyes clear
I didn’t lie to you
I say out loud to the barn rafters
the barn swallows as my witness
I didn’t
here is your bucket of grain
What is deception?
What is forgivable?
afterwards
your glorious body
curls in the grass
in a place easy for Steve
to manage his small backhoe,
I can’t close your eye,
glazing over
no longer clear
no longer you
I go through the barn
blinded
no more chasing
no more darshan
every gate I come to
I fasten
open