Still Water Prose Poems

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

63

Past striving, I continue to kick around. I've had career.
I've been in love. Why persist?

Another "digital delinquency" has stopped the mix for
almost a week. Buttresses, stepped and stone-finished, lie on
the ground about to fly. I hang with the masons while I think
about my life, my father, Children!
To complete my life?
To give the trip as a gift?
To not be the end to the branch of the tree
of genes?
What does it mean?

I fought with my father just last week and could have
pulled the whole house down, ripped the charade of family
apart, tired of being misunderstood. But I called him later and
patched it up. Just why did I call?
For one of the ten commandments?
To teach my child to rise above?
For: Do unto others as you will have others
do unto you?
Or was it the genes we share?

Could it be that the way we wonder is
more alike than anyone else we know?

Montserrat, British West IndiesOctober 1985