Tonight, I'm talking to the moon:
'You haven't wept enough?
I'm thirsting for your tears.'
Stars, I cannot bear
seeing you shiver in the distance.
How many are the dawns
where I plucked
gossamer dew on grass-tips!
The cactuses,
they've grown tall this summer.
Prisons and palaces I have seen -
Plenitude, loneliness,
riding in my *****,
as you hold me in your arms,
onward, past joys and despair
Señora, there is yet
a thawing desire for the spring.
Birthday note for a senior friend - of course the 'Señora' here is different - that's my muse, on the lines of Emily Dickinson's 'Señor'