Posted by matt de maat parching heat
on 6/18/2004, 9:19 pm
24.15.41.66
she,
a foxtrot,
fresh in summer months astounds.
each day new and strong,
more strong and cherished,
producing a small life teeming with lazy joys,
merry and forever unsullied;
against me leans
her growing legacy
as my laughter fills the room and
my devised fantasies pale and wither
in the sun of her contemplation.
(her hands, my hands intertwined deftly bear a
quiet sigh which then is blushing,
tottering, clumsywonderful emotion)
and all good souls form a knot around
to maybe see
the miraculous bounty of her soil work
in this gray place, or to wax patient,
ensnared forever.
She invests in flowers,
from seeds we grow to become strange mysteries
and in strange ways she finds her work doing and done.
we pine helpless,
borne to and from her by the pull of drifting hands made busy
in the delicacy of summer.
Oh my heart.
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