by Rodney Nelson

I seemed to know you

not by every means

your name the day we went coursing in the north

 

 

we seemed like a both

yet were never a same

the night we ran out of road and of the woods

kept on anyhow

reaching the Beaufort shore

at an early point in our direction

where none and nothing

were either both or same

 

 

I thought you knew me

not by every means

my name when we got to the beach and salt wind

 

 

the odor of it

might have come from Norway

you said yet I would have to age and weaken

before I thought all waters smelled of any

and of every

the one and holy same