Sunday, June 26, 2011

Two Julys

Two summers past I heard you leaving
softly stepping so as not to wake me.
The room was dark and full of you
and dread that clutched at all of me.

Instinct arrived at three a.m.
to the sound of flung locks
click of a clock,  breath exiting
sharply from an empty room.

I curled in the dark, eyes squeezed
shut, a child again at forty-eight.
It was then the door re-opened
you strode back, gathered me up

as if knowing, kissed me long and hard. 
Only then did you go fully, loudly
in defiance of the fact that you had to.
I was left alone swathed in night -

transforming back into woman.


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