wendy-howe

Keep us in color. Mute
the traffic and sparrows
dominating the café trees.

Focus on the table,
how we stare at white cups
waiting to be filled, gold spoons
to be used, stirring in
more than sweetener, suave poise.

The waiter will come in moments
not seconds. We are left
to anticipate the scent
of espresso, 

the tang of apricots,
and what must be said
about our union.

Clouds hang closer, pale 
limestone gray
like *The Church of The Holy Maiden,
La Doncella Santa *
perched on the hill.