The Long Bench


For the times ahead
when we will be

as if at either end
of the long bench

where distance kept
is love’s measure
and death dances
the space between

when words alone
are not enough

and queued memories
reach out to touch
let longing be a store
of nut and seed
that grows each day
in strange hibernation

readying for its end -
the sharing of the feast.

            Jim Carruth

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