Plumbing Love

He thinks no Scottish loch can reach as far

As love or be as deep, though deep enough

For monsters, deep enough because of scar

Gouged out by deeper ice that made this clough

Before the glacier went away.  The death

Of love, the life of love wait like this stretch

Of ancient water breathing out its breath

Of mist.  So beauties, bald, can etch

The landscapes of our loves.  They also come

From eons deep as deepest depths.  We know

This truth, a truth that heart can plumb

Far back when ice became a lingering floe.

  That floe has melted but not love.  Love waits

    Forever.  Hearts hold love in loch-deep weight.

~ Phillip Whidden