A BALANCE

I TOUCH
YOUR SACRED, DARK HICKORY
THROUGH LAYERS OF PAINTED YEARS
                                                                             
YOUR CROOK
HAS KNOWN THE POLISH OF HANDS
AND THE CAREFUL, WEIGHTED STEPS
THAT OLD MEN TAKE
BENEATH YOUR BLACK ENAMEL CLOAK
TIME SCARS REVEAL
THE IVORY OF A FORMER TIME
                                                                      
 I DO NOT KNOW                                                                           
THE TURN OF DAYS
OR TRADE OF GOODS
THAT BROUGHT YOU TO
MY PAPA SMITH

YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN
A BALANCE
TO SOME SMITH AND WESSON BARGAIN

I KNOW YOU WERE
HIS EVER PRESENT STAFF
SECURITY
ON ACORN SCATTERED WALKS
PAST THE LITTLE FENCED DOG'S BARK
OUR PILGRIMAGE
TOWARD BOTTLE SMASHING
GARBAGE DUMP ADVENTURE

TONIGHT
I TOUCH MY LEGACY
THROUGH LAYERS OF MY YOUTH AND PAST
AS SOME NEW GATE WATCHMAN
KEEPS A QUIET VIGIL
(DEC/11/1981)-REH