And this poem reminds me of your spirit:
That woman, she said, could rattle a bird
right out of the sky; that man
could spell a row of corn backwards
and forwards. Their children (all ten of them)
could tell you how to add leaf to branch
or divide the sky cloud by cloud.
They were a talented family,
a most gifted group.
And when they wanted a vacation,
they painted a wall full of mountains
and climbed the highest one,
they carved a coastline along the sidewalk
so that they could gaze out to sea
beyond the garage's shore.
They could sing harmony to a song
that was only, just then, being composed.
They believed in things that no one--not
even God--would have asked them to believe.
They knew how to keep stars
shining and they still do.
Coming Back to the Body
New Rivers Press