It is a forgotten letter.
\nA brush of the hand,
\na flame,
\nthe last flicker
\nof the glowing wood.
\nWhere did I put you
\nmy earthly presence?
\nThe bright green of wet grass,
\nthe hidden door.
\nI speak of you no more,
\nmy first love,
\nsharp gust of new rain,
\nqueen of all your sisters.<\/p>\n
Where do you walk
\nafter all these years?
\nWhat bed lies warm
\nwith the moon rise
\nof your lips,
\nthe flash of teeth,
\na mouth that smiled
\nlike a precious lake,
\nthe sweetness of water?
\nHow many women
\nhave held me
\nby the pause
\nof your darting eyes,
\nyour borrowed enchantment?
\nThe odor of new leaves,
\nthe musk
\nof spring\u2019s fresh earth.<\/p>\n
Do you call me back,
\nsomewhere,
\nyour hair dusted by time?
\nYour lips pale as frost,
\nthe rose faded with cold.
\nDo you remember
\nour embraces,
\nthe pause of sleep,
\nthe warm fountain of closeness?
\nYour face is painted
\nin my memory,
\nyour eyes blue as amethyst,
\nthe pupils dark as onyx.
\nI have seen that darkness
\nonly in caves,
\nin the subterranean treasure
\nof the earth,
\nlight against a wall of blackness,
\nwithout stars,
\na dizzying crevice
\nwithout depth or height,
\nand I fell into their passion,
\ntheir consuming hunger,
\nafraid and joyous.<\/p>\n
Do you call for me
\nin dreams?
\nThrough all these years
\nremember my boyish thrall?
\nWhere are you,
\nwhen I walk
\nlonely with your memory?
\nWhen I look at the ground,
\nthe mud,
\nthe heaviness of years.
\nWould you recognize me now?
\nRemember my hands
\nthe fever of my poems?<\/p>\n
Have I rushed by you
\nin a frenzy?
\nBeen near as a word?
\nA breath?
\nThe reach of your arms?
\nI will never know
\nmy beloved traveler,
\nmy friend,
\nmy willow,
\nhardened by cold.
\nWe have gone our ways,
\nnever to return.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It is a forgotten letter. A brush of the hand, a flame, the last flicker of the glowing wood. Where did I put you my…<\/p>\n