it's not a *new* poem, so to speak...

[aithne]

...but I discovered tonight that it's not on my LJ and thus not in my Memories section, and I'm a wee bit of a completist, so.

This one's meaning's a bit shy. It's sort of about sex. Well...kinda. It's also about other stuff. Er.



what follows storm

sea-perfect, I am held
in calm water, the rain
approaching, bourne
on your wind--this front
coming in from the Sound.

I curl in clean sheets, cats
purring in puddles, and me
silent and wakeful in the center
of my own nutshell universe

and I hear your wind coming,
behind the rain that clatters
the lintels and the shingles.

I open the window.
Lean outside, hands on the sill,
turn my face to the sky

branches tickle my bare feet
as we skim, you and I and you, after
the rain and then upward through cloud
where a gibbous moon hangs
in the black quiet midnight

starry body above aching for dark body below

you are wings of flame and
you are wind that carries us and
I am the breath, the thread
between the ground and the sky
the path that lightning follows

to the fallow earth

(12.6.2003)