Sunday, April 12, 2009

The Wobble Into Day

And the light wobbled into day
as an unsteady voice in night's ear
coaxed blush into that innocent place

just before fog lifted her veil from 
over the long bridge that let them sometimes pass 
.. one side to another 

He sees her walking, arms outstretched
her body shaped into the meaning of the word

     He knew she would open him 
   just as a float of fog had uncovered the bridge 
woman river passage man 

pebbles tossed into rings
told stories that would begin or end
but not today:

Clothed only as himself
   He begins.

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