My low lidded eyes caress
The manzanita tree
Smooth dark skin drawn bare to a chalice of secret sinews
Wanting my tongue to search again
Along the glowing creases
In the salty sun-dressed morning
Where we made love
She grows there still, in spring
I know it
Easy witchcraft aligns my willing memory
A rustling green emerald gown
Bright breezes borrowed from the listening river
Beauty evermore nevermore
I turn away wearily, in recall.
A brown shoulder of glistened manzanita
In the soft scented morning light of yesterday
And I am undone.
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