You / May find a new way in which experience overlaps / Words.  

             Robert Penn Warren, “The Whole Question”

Reaching into the cooler for a bottle of wine,

And now I'm a quarter of a mile and sixty years

From the river, silty water and snags of deadfall,

The walk along the one-lane rutted road to where

The cabin, worn and weathered wood, rusty nails

And peeling tarpaper, is leaning into old oaks and

Corn-green light on its shaky wooden stilts where

Bolted beside the edge of the chipped stained sink

Is a well pump, its handle half-broken, a coffee can

Of water to prime it, and a blue and white-speckled

Tin cup with no handle at all and holding it then

As it seems now in a blessing and sacrament of

Innocence, feeling the cold clear water before you

Taste it, brassy and loamy as this Pinot Grigio.