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Water Among the Stones
To the heart that has felt it and that is the
true judge, every loss is irretrievable
and every joy indestructible.
-- santayana
To My Matilija
Where the canyon walls
Close in, and the air cools,
And the little green trout fl ick and hover
In the clear green pools
Between the falls
Where that sturdy solitary, the slate-gray dipper, year round, sings
Till the steep stone rings
Is where I'll go, still unforgiving
Of others' and my own poor past
(How keep my mind clear and not curse
Doings that make life worse?)
And be, Matilija, your lover
When I am dead, and at long last
Won't have to make a living.