recurrences

how awful it would be
if this between you and me
were the same situation done again 
in reverse of the past.

I thought at last
my slate was clean -
that no rusting thing could
spill through to stain
my present, corrode
my future being.

what if I am him and you are me
and we play this play in eternity 
for all things revolve, are never still
and sickness is not subordinate to the will
but has an awful, powerful potential
for a life of its own that can
thwart and dirty hope in the heart,
tongue the present with bile?

wait, wait ... I will wait awhile and see ...
if our blossoming may yet be
uncorrupted, be healthy.

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