Wednesday, December 14, 2011

You and Blue ----

Embracing you, I close my eyes, lose you anew,
Lover, wife. An aboriginal spin under the flesh

Of my lids reclaims a memory, a stopove, in, 
Of all  places, Endwell, N.Y. , the motel's TV

Dumbly blueing the room as  we made motel love,
Figuring well in flickering blueness.
Monet knew
Evening snow is blue and what he showed -his fields-
For us moves more than the eye to awe-we live

Beyond the eye  -he paints a world where we can be.

We're summering now, sweating, dried-out austere.

It's July, your month. Your small blue flower
Blossomed this week, it's yellow fool's face

And skinny beard grinning out of mint and herbs
And vetch, bright in all that green. Why is it

So late? As different and strange and beautiful
As you, my love, dear friend.
We're in a loom
And limbo of sheets, tightly unwrapping the skin
Of night together, sweltering. My moon-blind eyes

Uncover the long blue shadowed snowfields of Monet,
His gift to us. I discover you for the thousandth 
Time, and it's new.
I can hear the gods sneezing
In the blue above cypresses  punctuating Delphi's 
Hillside, sneezing, the gods who love love, for love 
Of us. I open my eyes, and you are you. 

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