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For Judy

 

I see you striding up some western hill;

Shrugged in a warming garment for the climb,

Your hair all windy in the freshening chill

Your light step eager,     in the breeze of time.

 

I watch you in your gentle,     forward gait,

Tilting your head to scan the open sky;

A wordless song in you that will not wait

Tracing the echoes of your passing by.

 

I find you there and in a windowed tree

Known long ago;   the cycle of its bloom,

The certain way in which its buds burst free

(And wonder blossomed in a childhood room).

 

I see you then just past that springtime sill,

Stretching your smaller self to topmost bough

-- Today I see that proud ascending,   still,

The brightest April,    living in you now.

 

 

                                                E.S.W.

                                                April 17, 1978