Afterwards

 

Mostly you look back and say, "Well, OK.  Things might have

been different, sure, and it's too bad, but look--

things happen like that, and you did what you could."

You go back and pick up the pieces.  There's tomorrow.

There's that long bend in the river on the way

home.  Fluffy bursts of milkweed are floating

through shafts of sunlight or disappearing where

trees reach out of their deep dark roots.

Maybe people have to go in and out of shadows

till they learn that floating, that immensity

waiting to receive whatever arrives with trust.

Maybe somebody has to explore what happens

when one of us wanders over near the edge

and falls for awhile.  Maybe it was your turn.

--William Stafford

[Photo from Polihale State Beach Park, Kauai]