Images

All Of It (1972)

Robb Dow

Had it not been for the furious storm that swept
the sea up over the docks, and broke the masts
of fishing boats, and moved the rocks across
the beach, and closed the solitude of night,
I might have slept those hours and never known
the wind, never watched the corolla
around the moon.  But there it was.
I thought of you in Yugoslavia.

And now it is another year, and I
have known your arms a while before you went.
Though I remember, it is turning June
and I will go away, Alaska bound,
perhaps, perhaps across the Yukon štil
the snow stops me.  I don't know where you'll be.
I thought of you in Yugoslavia.

Time may ease the thoughts I have of you,
and you may hear, remembering the name
and nothing else, that I have gone to take
the nod on a cold stage in a cold place.
Praised for words unheeded, I may stand
gray and deaf: will I remember my
blood-pounding hours of you, and will
I think of you in Yugoslavia?


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