she is beautiful
he tells
the shifting breath
of the open curtain

the tulips outside
are growing
i remember
our feet
tangled in the grass
the soft curve
of your lips
against the palm
of my hand
we watched
the river together
the small circles
of our movement
reflected in the passing
threads of the water

somehow the seasons
settle
i face the distant
end of the horizon
the sun
passes cold
along the skin
of my back
i am lonely here
i press my toes
against the rising
push of the ground
freedom brushes
bare my ankles
and moves along

dull pink rises
over the growing
weight
of the houses

between
the quiet hours
the morning glories
close their petals
against the evening
rain

carefully he took a bowl
from the top shelf
faded yellow porcelain
reflecting the patterns
of the flowers by
the windowsill

raindrops gather
in the open palm
of a fallen leaf

the wind picked pace
she could feel the sound
of the music, very
distant now
he was telling her
about his sister
fingers sliding
through her hair
like water
saying, "You remind me,"
"You remind me."

it was too early
for spring
bare branches
stir with a sudden
turn of crooked fingers
as a car passes,
shedding light
on broken glass

last night she dreamed
of lions