Note for Natasha

I saw you in a forest
just as a welcome shower of rain began

I couldn’t tell how it was
that you moved like that

between the growing trees
with such animal limbs

Could someone tutor me?
The graces of your soul

translate to gestures
and the gentle way your hand

may have touched
How little do I understand?

The forest gives way to a garden
that you overlook

fresh in gumboots
Your mind is fully at play

the earth gives softly beneath your feet
Could the thought be more vivid?

But just in case you didn’t see
the slip of paper

nailed to your tree
What on earth could it say?

The crude and beautiful word or
not a word nor even art

but just a childish doodle
a drawing of the heart

Grant Duncan, 12.2.05