A found poem

“Have you forgotten
that you can never
be caught
if you still
trees crackling
and growling
if you can hear
the one
dit of gravel
fall over
the other
dit of gravel
in the wind,
if you can still count
the red berries
on the bushes
and divide
by the number
of birds
in the yard,
if you can recollect
that you
are descended
from some
that no longer
a ground
you came from
run through
by El rio –
abaio rio,
the river
beneath the river
that surfaces
in the most
who were washed
in a magic
with a bowl
your belly,
gathering lightning,
gathering rain,
forever filling,
and forever
emptying out.
Where does
the breath go
when it is not
being drawn?”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’ve put off posting this *found* poem for a few months, hoping that I might be able to first come up with the author’s name, but I haven’t been able to find any source for it. Maybe someone out there might recognize it.

I found it hanging in a coworker’s cubicle – a photocopy of the typewritten poem that was given to her on a retreat years ago. She doesn’t recall or never knew who the author was, but “The Cairn of Recollection” was handwritten across her photocopy. Searching for that as a title didn’t produce any results.

4 thoughts on “A found poem”

  1. I’ll say that I like it so much that I printed it out and will display it in my home and office. It’s lovely, but, without an author attached? He/she should be known.

    I walk on part gravel during my short hike on campus and can hear the mixing of branches in the wind overhead.

    Thanks, Laura.

  2. A wonderful poem that one could discuss endlessly for interpretations. The first line ‘. . that you can never be caught . . .’
    What do you think the poet intends by that?

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