Tracing (for Helen)
September 19, 1996
Tracing
(for Helen)
Listening to my friend
over the phone,
my finger traced a path
between flower and flower
on the jacquard cloth.
Friendship meant then
the spaces between flowers
where bees are busy
gleaning the things we
can't seem to touch...
the threads which
show our care - how
and when to bloom,
when to hold on.
She does not know
how I've traced the hours
between now
and her last call.