Poem from Fred Wah

Dear Carol,
I tried posting this poem to the blog today but it ended up as a comment on the Crossword.
I don't have any cross words for Mike but I'd like him to have this.
love, Fred


Dear Mike,
maybe the body is poetry
and it rhymes (or doesn’t)
but now in our own old bodies
I think it’s easy to say that
harder to think it

The talk’s been a joy
(the poetry too
ok, novels)
but when I think of you
I think of your body
which is always where you are
slight query of your head
(just like Victor)
swaying height and tilted
like the ideogram for “man”
the intensity of running
no, that’s from your eyes

Well, I guess we do think in pictures
the mental life belongs to all of us
but the body is a beautiful poem
(at least that’s the plan)
we can read it and read it
and read it

So I see you dear friend
every part of you moving
like the words of a poem
(ok, and a novel)
our music at the heart of thinking
always there to be read

with love, Fred