walking toward me from end of Ward Avenue
seems we are closer than ever
since I can even see the shadow hair makes
caught in your mouth
I want to touch it-- your mouth;
the hair-- to pull it out,
I want to hold fingers against your cool cheek
stubble like sand in the morning
The horse hooves have dug tiny caves in the beach
for likewise tiny plovers
My God! Nothing could be so utterly
perfect
as a tiny bird, hiding
in places smashed in
by giant feet
When the light changes season I will fly to you
Like a plover
over watery miles
the ranges of sea
watching the sky in the water for the first shadow
sign
how I ache to reach you
my dust to your dust
to hide me
in the heat of your body
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