An assignment

"The lady's eyes met mine, / And held them, knowing / Very well what it was all / About." -- Gary Soto, "Oranges"

"Man is not a god, that's what you said / [. . .] I never knew a man who loved the world as much as you, / And that love was the last thing to let go." -- Gjertrud Schnackenberg, "Walking Home"

"Love what you touch, / and you will touch wisely" -- Rita Dove, "For Sophie Who'll Be in First Grade in the Year 2000"

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Another poem,
another notch on my office-sheet
bookmark. But

this one reminds me of
frailty
of life, of death and
clinging to moments,
living through actions and
words each day,
knowing the both devastating
and unsurpassable strength of
love.

This one reminds me of
youth,
and this imperfect, unkempt
world which we pass on,
which I save gingerly,
like a frail flower cupped in my hands,
to show to my
children.

And this one reminds me of
happiness,
tenderness in chasing dreams,
that shock, disbelief
when
they are realized.
And lastly, of course--
of course--
romance.

It's all here,
found out,
exposed--
harshly sometimes. These
feverish minds,
part mine, part yours.