“
Half-way into the stuck substance of sky
clay-white dome of the day-moon pokes...
Unkempt and in rags as I am
my girl's dressed all in dots:
in skirts and flowery blouses
I spin her round
and tie bows in little doll shoes
to match her tails
asking even dogs how she looks—
stupidly, doting on her….
By amber candlelit warmth, I played
cards in your sisters’ ambience:
it was like you said:
the warmth of their smiles
charmed me, their enfolding
talk, and eyes that wink….
A field of grass lay half-way
between boughs and the sky
I contemplate the clouds…
solid and amassed, clouds
topple on top of clouds
clouds up into peaks culminate
and yet are only clouds
dissolving to a shroud
and shadow in the sky….
Shh!— past sapling fleets and swift trunks
she sprints quickly on feet and calves
and finds me where I lounge,
painting clouds—
in her glass head radiant
eyes like blue-glass shine
blushing color bleeds
lustrous through her cheeks
to hover and float, floating
just beneath the skin….
On my second helping of leek-
and-potato stew, ladled
like melting goo in my bowl—
I watched you, bobbing,
in the solving resolve of
their womb-like steadiness,
cooing and aspiring….
Insulating sun lushens in the grass—
already afternoon shadows long out….
Root-grip to root-grip ahead
I mark twists in the trail
by way of the young-girl
bulbs of her legs
the deep churning spread
of her waist
swimming in my head and
in my head quietly drowning….
Harvest-time’s swelling our baskets—
spring in the fruiting grove…
with her mouth stained red
in seeded-berries
and those cheeks just-flushed
in blood, I'll pounce
high on that raised
bounce of her waist….
”
”