After the Cut Down

                        I often think of you when
                        I begin a new poem
                        As you were before that night you forgot
                        The way from the backyard into your house.

                        You were conversant and virile.
                        I admired your ability as a big man
                        To touch an audience gently with
                        Encouragement to love themselves.

                        In a poem to another poet you described
                        A woman in her kitchen frying perch for the cat.
                        You knew the poet and his wife favored dogs.

                        I wish you could understand
                        You outlived all your friends.

                        Would you see them on the moon
                        Whose name you still know?

                                                          For Robert Bly  (1926-2021)