lush cornucopia of greens
and overlapping canopies.
rays filtered through
somewhat a broken lens.

an arbour found
which carelessly took root.
calling out,
inviting,
offering sanctuary
from the shrill calls
of the turbulent outside.

a harbour
to which my heart
had taken to.
and had intended to stay.

but such is the nature
of man.

     no other man's peace
          can be left unruffled.
     no other man's cocoon
          can be left unravelled.
     no other man's haven
          can be left uninvaded.
     and no other man's trove
          can be left unraided.

like before I'll have to go.
and just like man's exploratory nature,
I leave seeking another
unfound recluse.
inadvertently,
paving the way for more to come.

An evening breeze
.....blows by......you obey,
........and move your lithe body
you sway left.... right...up and down

giving in to the blowing whispers,
...the breath of fire...that starts the dance
your pride of red-yellow-orange,
..........rises.........then falls......
do you know
that you brighten, dim, and glow?
dilating the pupils, rousing the mind even more...
your changing colors, your fiery, wavy movements
blind...and hypnotize.........bringing back to life
dormant desires...of one, entranced...captivated...
........i am lured..........i am tempted...
..................i am here...to dance with you,...
........enfold me...while you're ablaze......
....................singe me......i'd take the heat,
            ...........for....i am your,
                              ...........moth.......


Sally


Copyright May 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan

Wild, wild grass and wild, wicked smile, heavy
wooden barn burning off the hip for us to see, same barn
we made love in, views of red and blue firetruck lights
forever burnt, engraved inside my head, days so hot things
catch sparks in the nights when we come to life again
remember how we couldn't afford clothes (well, still can't)
so we all partied in the ****, skinny dip in the lake and a flame
snuck off with Johnny somewhere, but glad no animals lived
inside that barn for years now and the country is where I belong---

telephone poles to nowhere, blue skies, rolling yellow grassy hills
and water towers occasionally, your wild and wicked smile
next to me in the van with our friends doing our time on the road
but a burning barn can't crush our spirits more than they already are
can't ruin the memories of a number of electrified nights
of alcohol and poor decisions, broken people collecting
each other's pieces.

sixty-one minutes ago, a stormy midnight;
I watched the clock hands join as lightning
struck my high pastures

only last month, a twister snatched a steer
and dropped it in my neighbor's stock tank--not a scratch
on its hide after a cylconic half mile ride

tonight I had no fear funnels would find my fields;
the distant thunder claps taunted me, reminding me
they have fierce fire, but don't always bring rain

I watched the clock, waiting for 13:02;
only last month, my wife hid with me
in our storm cellar, praying

I prayed with her, though I doubted
a god was listening, or cared; my entreaties
were not for refuge from the storm

instead, I begged the black sky
my woman would be saved from white
blood cancer--for a miracle

that was not to be--the almighty saw fit
to perform one for a dumb beast that very eve
but not for my wife of fifty years

she lasted until 1:01 AM yesterday
13:01 I strangely conceived; I had the lucky
steer slaughtered at high noon today

I'd let it rot in prairie grass, were it not
for her--she would not want it to be carrion
for buzzards, a profligate desecration

she would want its flesh to be
a feast for a family she did not know;
hands clasped, giving thanks

to the same god that saved it
but not her; I can't rest, I'll watch the clock,
waiting for 13:01 again and again