~

yes, all the feelings come back

i thought maybe

but then—doesn't matter, they're back

the happy sensations

those that come from somewhere in the gut

and radiate updowninout

professor eliot says trés e e cummings, lynn

it makes me hungry

ravenous 

insatiable

down girl!

~

here it is blue skies

~

yes, it is time to run

to face the hills

and thoughts that are filling my head

you thoughts

~

i can write or run and i want to run

words have done the trick

but they're empty calories and they're adding up

~

i've missed this, you, i'm home, but i have to write this

~

The day we went sailing, the sixteen-footer,

Chasing the wind across the lake, the rippling

Telling us when to tack, come about, jibe—jibe ho!

Oh, you were splendid in the sun; the water,

It was at it should be—wine dark, and oh so wet.

Then the wind slacked and died, drifted

Off to south, leaving us becalmed, and the sun,

So recently our friend, turned harsh, vengeful,

And you, you growled, grrr, and I despaired.

No shade, into the water I dove, painter

Between my teeth, the dock a mile off.

It was a perfect day, because we lay in the shade

Of the cottage and kissed and laughed

At our misfortune, and our very good luck.

~

That night, surely you remember, we drove

Into the hills to watch the sunset, we stopped

By a trestle bridge on a logging road, and it rained,

Just enough to dampen your hair, more of a mist.

We talked about your family and mine and

We talked of other things, we must have, because

We talked until the chill drove us to the car.

We came on a cafe in the middle of nowhere,

Though it must have been someone's somewhere,

And had coffee and cigarettes by the fire.

Maybe it was two days, maybe a warm summer day

And a chill autumn day. Maybe one of the days

Was on lake somewhere in the north woods,

The other up in the Olympics. Maybe it wasn't you. Yet.

~

Remember, before the bark beetles left nothing

Of it, of the pines, the pine covered mountains,

Climbing at Silverhorn, top-roping

Between afternoon showers and mosquitoes,

Your legs trembling like a sewing machine?

But you reached the top, and did your happy dance,

Rappelling down, then having cheese and apples

While sitting on a picnic table at the base of the rocks.

I carved our initials in the table, with a loving heart

Around it—LS + CD, k-i-s-s-i-n-g up in a tree,

first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes

baby in the baby carriage, god, we could talk

Forever those days, and make love all night.

So I remember. Or, am I remembering tomorrow?

~

you could always read my mind

and i can read the future

i don't understand why i'm looking back

when it lies ahead

i can see it, and you know it

yes, all the feelings have come back

let's take a walk on the wild side 

i'll light the candles, you pour the wine

~