The most elusive prey: it is--
A quarry rare, a quarry most prized,
That the best of hunters, hawks
And hounds oft' do not realize
It's tentative presence.
The wettest touch and the hardest shot mocks at its capture.
Tight embraces conceal it much.
Is the true measure that it's taken
That when tears for a tune's rememberances
Drop, finally, in another's eyes?
Or the weight of our journey's grief
Consents to be shared on another's shoulders?
And once captured--in one's very hands
Trusts that it has not been captured at all?

02/06/2011

Author's Note: I will carry you..as long and as far as I can!

Posted on 02/07/2011
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