for Rachel M. & Durban
#Africa #baobab #baobabtree #birds #blonde #body #durban #feathers #flowers #roots #shade #southafrica #sun #vibrant #vivid
Between the keys. Between the chords. Between the notes. Between the sound you make
The Maine woods. The coastal woods. Where coming into Spring he resides, is at home. Where he keeps a fire burning
Who wore a green plastic visor the color of a ginger ale bottle. Who had a raspy voice and Charles Coburn kind of face. A forever bachelor
Red lights flaring like Roman candles at empty intersections. Headlights wanding like blind men’s sticks
Fog pours in through the half-open windows. Fills our small bedroom by the bay. Pools
While countries, armies and ideologies battle, bees make honey. Butterflies float, and drink the nectar from gently open flowers.
Good to mark it each year on the world’s calendar. But I celebrate it every day.
A man rides his bicycle on the sea. Salt rubs the tires. Sun reflects on the soles of his shoes.
While the town sleeps and dreams behind me. And pined islands lay silently, invisibly off the salt-tongued shore.
Be still now with the Earth. Still with the Sun, the Land, Sea
It’s an early Spring morning of bellsong and birdsong, sunsong
A sure sign of soon-coming Summer. Another sweet, salt-aired Summer.
Remember that one day you, too, will die. Will cease being here, in body, in breath. Will join all those
Maybe, like Marcel, Monsieur Proust, in Paris, it begins with a bite of a madeleine.
It was a wet signature. Full of emotion. Full of eroticism. Still wet, with sweat