Jeanne Emrich



                                                   this sunlit creek
                                                   rippling through the pines
                                                   no need today
                                                   to promise myself

                                                   I hold your face
                                                   in my hands―
                                                   a white peony
                                                   opens slowly
                                                   to the morning


                                                   wild persimmons
                                                   we find instead
                                                   the sweetness
                                                   of a kiss


                                                    both of us
                                                    so greedy for
                                                    the late season peach
                                                    we eat
                                                               the bruise


                                                     reminiscing along
                                                     the night-swept beach
                                                     we step around
                                                     shadows brought in
                                                     with the tide


                                                     events of the day
                                                     crowd around me . . .
                                                     I'd fall asleep
                                                     if only one night bird
                                                     would awaken and sing