xxi ( another )

You wake me at dawn or at least
the memory of you. Or was it

a flight of swallows, startled
that woke me?

I rub two sticks together to
conjure you around a ring

of stones to tell our story
to the last of the morning

stars that lean against the trees,
bending the branches, to hear,

while the fading moon
floats on the river.

I hear them whispering
and it makes me colder.

So I find a spark
in the beak of a raven

take a flame from that day
we laughed so hard while making

         love  –
            and build a small fire

                that I set on the water
I watch it float down river,

       setting the morning on fire.

There is no more whispering.

Advertisements

One Reply to “xxi ( another )”

  1. I really like this one, you are such a romantic. Romance and chivalry have seemed to die in most men, I’m glad to see you are keeping it alive

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s