August 30
Reclining Lady of Six-Eighty (5)*
The days she remains invisible
behind walls of gray air
something substantial in me is obliterated
patched over with vague recollection
More real then is every daily revelation
of her form whether in pastel silhouette
or stark as Cezanne against the blue
and more remarkable in her vital reality
And the constant passive security posed
from turned face and breast
to open hips and rising thighs
unique in every light
causes me to consider her dreams
to be the fabric of the dawn
into which I move
and against which I disappear
*From a series written from 1998-2001 (I was 53-56)
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