just behind the right shoulder
(the one that ached in winter)
i could just make out the past
it's forms, its shadows, its hollow grasp
just behind me--right there i insisted
everything that was, was still there
only slightly out of breath
only slightly dead
i'll give you an example of this distance:
say you walk in circles, but then you start to catch up
catch up to yourself
and you speed up your walk, and shorten your circle
and you're right on top of your own shoulder
so close you want to pull over
to let yourself pass
that close
i went to the garden thinking of nothing
except the cold, and of my hands
i did not walk in a circle
i did not catch myself
however, i did something funny:
i put winter just behind me
behind my shoulder
we played spy in the garden
the exact place where spring was hiding
that was where we would wait
that was where we got caught
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