Summer Trilogy



In confused dreams I take your hand --
You kneel at my bedside, your wordless whisper

The voice of desire.
In the morning I barely remember, and I can't forget.



In the afternoon, the wind in your hair --
You are golden in the sun. Horses
Circle you, elastic over the ground:
Your voice, and the hollow rhythm of hooves,
Sunburn and the taste of dust.
Tent flaps rustle in the wind.



Hamptons summer sunset at my back, the moon
A crescent over your shoulder. Your eyes topaz
In the dying light. How do I see these things, and live?

And yet I live, and hear
The song of stars in the cobalt sky,
And see your pale gaze in the evening.