I give you these poems
at the tail-end of the trade winds
at the cost of an espresso & my reasoning soul.
I would sit in the midst of Kalakaua traffic
simply to relieve this hounded mind with a pen.
Here, enfolding the slender tipped shepherd,
facing such fragrance of relief, I am rendered
the dog on the cobbles
mouth to her knees,
in love with her handler
in love with the leaves;
the woman with braids of silver hair
charmed by the sparrows, by the petalous
passion fruits, delighted by porcelain
and barefooted relevance;
the low-light in soft-light,
stalking the glow of airy fingertips
hearing nothing but buzzes of breezes
simply here and alive to breathe it!
The termerity! The cheek!
The sensual joy of “elsewhere”
just for a moment, just for a stanza,
another ink drop on the vast shores of expanse—
Here, I am you. The you that I see
the you I cannot consistently comprehend
the pulse within you I feel
and I study it, and I love it,
and I love you. I would stop
the car on a freeway exit
to pull out a pen & feel this.