I was seduced
in Barnes & Noble,
lured to the poetry section
next to coffee and pastries
I touched her Blue Iris,
fondled her Red Bird
and recounted why
she wakes to watch
the early sunrise
She looked better than I remembered
in a brown jacket
with a striking
emblem of a bear
on the front
She took me to her tent
near Truro
and told me of turtles, toads,
hermit *****,
and her fear
of ridding her garden
of a small harmless snake
I spill my passion
on the beach’s sand — our bed for now
Under her cover
she shares phrases,
moles, verbs,
and curves
of sweet new perceptions
We are intimate beyond belief
through her verbal kisses
which bring sweat to my palms
I’m high, hallucinating
on Mary
my drug of choice
I’m having an affair
with Mary Oliver
I am re-posting this in light of the recent death of Mary Oliver. I miss her
