Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Hands Remember

The hands remember
More than the mind your skin

They think of their own will,
“This was the shape of her”,

When they find themselves cupped
Or curled in a certain loose way

Around the curves
Of you no longer here:

The left hand
Especially so.


Yes, I know
now
My left hand
Knew you one way,

While my right hand
Knew you another.

Was either best?

Monday, February 16, 2004

In the Silence Of the San Luis

In the silence of the San Luis
I do not know you, Jackie,
Nor the words that you speak
About relationships and love:
Only the coyote calling
Over miles to the late sun;
The tension in your body
Next to mine.

Where are the elk and the wolf of you?
Where are the dust and your rain?
Where is the stone
Sharp under my foot when I walk,
Caressed by your breeze?

Does an alchemist work you
With strange heats and poisons,
Some developer foresee
Well watered lawns?

Without care, you plan over soil and seed
A pavement you demand
All accept under their feet.

Would it matter if it were gold?

This afternoon while you slept on moss and stone,
The sun writhed over the shape of you beneath the water,
Bubbles clung to your pubic hair like silver seed,
And in the silence of the San Luis,
I could not believe
Pavement accepts a lover.