Duporte the roofer that calm voice <br />those sure hands gentling weathered tiles <br />into new generations or <br />half of him rising through a roof <br />like some sea spirit from a wave <br />to turn shaped slates into fish scales <br />that would swim in the rain Duporte <br />who seemed to smooth arguments by <br />listening and whom they sent for <br />when a bone was broken or when <br />they had a pig to kill because <br />of the way he did it only <br />yesterday after all these years <br />I learned that he had suddenly <br />gone blind while still in his sixties <br />and died soon after that while I <br />was away and I never knew <br />and it seemed as though it had just <br />happened and it had not been long <br />since we stood in the road talking <br />about owls nesting in chimneys <br />in the dark in empty houses <br /> <br /> <br />From 'The Shadow Of Sirius' <br />Publisher: Copper Canyon Press (September 1, 2008)<br /><br />William Stanley Merwin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/shadow-hand/
