Water Lilies

 for Linnea

From a long walk across a
fallow field for 40 years. 

 

a coming home. — a homecoming

         at that moment I put my hand

                            on your bare belly —

 

That first night together,

        where everyone we’ve ever known –

         whispered in our ears —  full of clamoring.

         

 Drunk with love — we think we love alone.

 

“I like that I can talk to you about this kind of thing.”

 

I hear prayers in the silence of your kisses.

         so we dance all night till the lights

                  of the Eiffel tower flicker

off  —

 

We walk together in silence,

          a bright silence,     

                    that  blurs

                            the light

              like Monet’s water lilies  

                  at Gevrny;

                                          so beautifully.

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