Hedgebrook, Day Nineteen

'Healing'
Papa would tell me,
is not a science,
but the intuitive art of wooing Nature.

- from Auden's poem The Art of Healing (In memoriam David Proteach, M.D.)




You are in another state, I know, but I think I saw you
last night as the sun went down
sandwiched between clouds, reaching its pink arms up
through the leftover blue
a solitary person in a boat
rowing out toward the middle
and this morning I thought I heard you
stirring up the birds
your low voice carried
through the pines.