“in his laughter your face…”

by Krystyna Milobedzka

in his laughter your face, precise and near,
echoes and returns smaller: your grandson laughed, father

I cannot lose sight of you     I lose it
I want to speak of you    I hear myself

not the track not the path
narrower higher
through something right behind you that
rises    re    turns
to this minute the twig knocked by the shoe

only for a fraction
for a few round gilded letters

up there our path
down there our path
we walk together throught he great chain of mountains
farther down chipped stones
farthest down plants

gentian
the invincible sapphire of this word

we run: a quick drop down the dark leaf