Still Water Prose Poems

Copyright @ 1989 by Arthur Garfunkel
ISBN 0-525-24795-5
Used by persmission of Author - All Rights Reserved

4

O Kathryn, I kissed you goodbye.

You were wearing a white cotton dress with pale
pink satin.
You were in the corner of the limousine, thirty
minutes ago.

Outside the car, on the sidewalk, it was 4:40,
Saturday afternoon.
Gorgeous, radiant sunshine fell on daddy and me.

It was the very middle of May.

How you delighted me all day long…You were
like a brook. And like a running mountain
brook you caught and reflected the
dazzling light.

You arrived cautious and curious. You had been
shopping for smells, and you bought a bubble-gum-
smelling eraser, a rootbeer lip gloss brush, a bottle
of cologne.

—Do you play chess? you said in the second minute.

At The Empire State, when we hit the big view at
the top—you took it in your own time. You were
Loch Lomond.

You like: typewriters, jigsaw puzzles, chocolate,
pianos, grape soda, three in a phone booth, Pez,
playgrounds and limousines. And most of all, it
seemed, was playgrounds—the carriage ride we
took to the carousel (where you rode the inside
horse) charmed your daddy and me

but the playground was the cat's whiskers
to you. I tried to sign your nose…Kathryn,
thank you so much for giving me

Outside, daddy was saying "She'll never be five
again."

So my goodbye kiss is to the beautiful wake you
leave behind your beautiful course Kathryn.

the tribute of the current to the source

New York CityMay 1981