Bread

He
(in the kitchen
while I word,
soup and bread)
mind my broken gait,
add no weight.

He
(we and me)
bend and walk
into wood,
onto prairie,
downto river.
Together alone
(together, alone).

He
(me, we) —
sing silent
reciprocity of receptivity,
gentle,
irresistible persuasion
toward Right Action.

And always the opened cage —
the migratory
and minute rhythms
of a life on the earth.

Train’s sibilance,
he from fog —
somewhere,
somewhen —
we (he, me),
open-hearted,
healed,
whole.