Two solitudes- A Poem

it was the softest kind of day
spent outside in golden light
hot but only enough to relax
the muscles.

the water buffalo
crossed the stream and ate
with their bells clanging and we
watched. their birds walked
beside them, white and as
graceful as the buffalo were
clumsy. buffalo mouths, snatching
at leaves. it’s enough to
bring tears to your eyes.

the hot, sulfuric water
the cold river

Rilke said that true love
is “two solitudes that
meet, protect, and greet
one another.”

that flash of white on the
back of the buffalo, a gentle
wing flap.
two solitudes. a soft touch.

the water, the sun, the faces
of friends. you sat on the tree
limb and played music
a perfect solitude. the white
birds against the sky, my heart
bordering, greeting yours.

*

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