Jorie Graham – Why

Jorie Graham (May 09, 1950 -)

you ask me
again—why
putting your tiny hand on
the not yet
unsheathed
bud on the
rhododendron
and I see
I need to be sky
I need to be soil
there are no words
for why that I
can find fast
enough, why
you say at
the foot of the cherry’s wide
blossomfall
is it dead now why
did it let go, why,
tossed out
into what appears
to be silence
when I say
let’s run the
rain is starting—why
are we lost why did
we just leave
where we just
were why is
everything
so far behind
now as we go on I
see you think
when you reach
me again to ask
why when I say
are you coming now &
you say no,
I want to stay, I want
things to stay, I do
not want to come
away from things—what
is this we are
entering—me taking yr
hand now to speed
our going
as fast as we can in this suddenly
hard rain, yr
hand not letting go
of the rose pebble u found
feeling the first itching of
personal luck as
you now slowly
pocket it thinking
you have taken
with you a piece of
what u could not
leave behind. It is
why we went there
and left there.
It is your why.