~
Through trees the tresses of the sun cascade
cast a thousand golden freckles
on the brook we bathed in
so alive, splashing barefoot laughter
We played at hobos shared
a can of beans and washed it down in
tepid water from a gas station
restroom near the cemetery where we slept
the night before
You worried but I was protected by
the ghosts of the cemetery and the
mountain of your arms
Now, off key, we sing of
“heroes in the seaweed”
and the sun really does pour like honey
You look up through the underside
of the bridge
the cars Whoosh too loudly, intruders in
our serene landscape and
overwhelm the small voice of your woman
You sweep hair from my face
milk skin smells of soap and grass
Downstream, an old man quietly fishing
seems familiar, but you cannot place
your finger on
or maybe it was just the hat.
We aren’t always as alive as
we were that summer
God, we were so young
but sometimes we remember-
“They are leaning out for love
and they will lean that way forever.”
Someday you’ll return to the rusted bridge
the radiant brook and you’ll see them
the young lovers and they will
look at you as though
you somehow seem familiar
With a sigh and half a smile
you will tip your hat and cast your lines.
*The song we were singing, in case you wondered, was Suzanne, by the sublime Leonard Cohen, 1967.
(Okay, so the * is for the general audience, i'm pretty sure you guys recognize the song.
This really happened while stranded in a mountain town with my now-husband when we were younger and newer and it is also my nod to my favorite writer of all time. He gets one more nod in my first book bc it opens with a quote and disclaimer- "I am one of the fakes." ) ~
Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to share a few more selections in this thread.
