Thursday, February 16, 2006

Amboise, 1997

We stood on the old ramparts of ancient Amboise
Looking northeast upon the Loire.
Late morning's light hung like lazy haze
Shining on the endless tree lined shore.
It was a view from another life
Momentarily shared by our other lives.
You watched as I rummaged through the
Backpack for our lunch, smiling.
We ate a simple meal; bread, cheese and fruit.
A little communion coming to be,
A humble treasure of this universe.
But not as precious as the strands of gold
Absently disturbed by a rising breeze
And finding their resting place on your brow,
Crowning the wistful hazel and amber in your eyes.

vestiges

band with sapphire heart
now rests in old jewel box
old soul, new karma

--

in times, i wonder
the tale of her hazel eyes,
hollow of my heart

--

this face in my sleep
so thoughtful in her intent
holds to linger, still

nocturne

four twenty eight a.m.
silence and darkness.
outside, palm fronds fray
against grieving shutters.
through broken stained windows
venetian blinds hum and heave
melancholy meowing chords.
on the floor, bands
of pale gauzy light
elaborate bruised, empty fractures.
a passed over geography
of pitted terra cotta tiles.
wait. wait wantingly and the moment
will come when the waning
senses surrender to calm
and sweet slumber deftly
persuades the wrinkled mind to
uncoil the body into dreamless repose