The salty water carries up
reminiscence. It envelops
me in the memory of
summer evening softness.
I trust it will lead me
back to the sweet air and home
like the path once long ago
that took me there when I was small.
A path from school, well worn
if only by me and the rabbits
who shared the field.
It ran through the blackberry patch,
down the side of the hill to the stream,
to the log that kept my feet dry crossing it,
up across the other side of the hill
to home, to the back door where upon opening
gave off the smell that would have said home
even if my eyes had been as blind as they are now.
I am assured that the river
out of hell and back
to the caress of family,
to the understanding smiles of friends,
to the comforting light of earth.