Nightgown
(for Mary)
When I handle your nightgown
the cloth passes through my fingers
light as kisses made of nothing but air;
as a quill splits and spills its ink
in controlled falling
so the folds of your nightgown
pour out of my hands to the floor.
The light passes through
and as poems come unbidden
light prints lace on the closet door
in a hem of shadows
maidens with lutes
their fingernails long and moon-sliced
and in the straw hut
their fingers trail through hair on the chests of heroes
and the cool silken fire of love in the afternoon
and the dark malt smell
of the thatch over them.
There will be no clinging to this
after your death
instead there will be hands
clinging to satin in my sleep.
"Nightgown"
-
Zlatko Waterman
- Posts: 1631
- Joined: August 19th, 2004, 8:30 am
- Location: Los Angeles, CA USA
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