A January Outing

Walking is different now – 
my hips in some new relation
to their sockets,
my back and belly negotiating
an imperfect balance.

Perhaps that’s why 
I let my feet do the navigating…
my mind tuned to a different channel,
or maybe a new dial
altogether.

Right, and left, and left again,
then right
along a road flanked by giant sycamores,
down to the river
now frozen and covered 
in a downy pillow of snow.

There,
in a deep and gentle bend
where many a summer afternoon would find us
you took your first waters.
I knew you were already with us then
before any test would make it certain.

Nonotuck: 
the place in the midst of the river.
That’s where you are,
like the waters running under that icy surface.
There, just beyond the eye
but only for a while longer.