Sunlight sparkles on the beads
of sweat on your back as you stoop over
the roses, cutting the spent blooms.
You rise and see me bringing you your tea,
the spicy scent mingling with the sweetness of the roses
and the aroma of my coffee, our cups almost touching.
You sit on the glider leaving space for me beside you,
and as I sit your damp arm comes around me,
gently, as to not spill the cups as you pull me
toward you for a kiss.
For Krys - May 1993
I think of you and see
Mist rising off the water to
Obscure the trees on the opposite bank,
And the worn paint on the gunwales of
The boat in which we sit.
I think of you and taste
Strong black coffee and insubstantial fog.
I think of you and smell
The coffee in my hand, the scent of pine
On the wind, and the freshness of the water.
I think of you and hear
The water lapping against the boat,
The gentle buzzing of dragonfly wings,
And the birds awakening far away.
I think of you and feel
The warmth of being bundled in
Shirt and sweater and jacket,
The coolness of the wind on my cheek,
And the comforting pressure of your arm around me.
Tears leap to my eyes
As I think of the sweet, sharp wildness of your silence.
For Boppo - 17 August 1987
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© 1987 - 2001 Elsa DieLöwin