Something for the Little Ones

Something for the Little Ones


Once there was light and, once, water --
Here it comes again,
A wash of sorrow, then the moaning, a bird's foot on the grass --

Then the shadows of noon,
And then the dropped nest --

St. Francis of my grandfather's roadside statuary
Bows to the sparrow
In his arms. Out of nothing we emerge with great jokes to tell

And an interest
In the interests of others -- Is that

So? my grandfather would say and shake his head, fishing
Hat at the ground

-- Circles in back of your memory,

In the end, become your memory --
Once more, sack of rock for the river bottom --

Once more, instead of water, there will be light and, in the light, no
Promise: promise

Is unworthy of what he found:

Something like rest... sand mixed with water...
Rock... and then
Ashes on his parents' graves. Silence --

That? -- And then the light again. Something

For the birds. Something
For the little ones.