Transpiration

I remember sunlight, transom dividing it,
imbuing translucent plastic beads with glory
as I poked string through;
undisturbed as dust mites in a bright beam.
Collaborating alone rhythms.
Exploring an old home's rooms,
solving family mysteries from incomplete conversations.

Descending an attic ladder, with switchback to
the main stair landing, and being
engulfed in the smell of baking bread.
Satiated, but preferring the presence of men and
attentive to the direction of any ocean breeze.
The deep chant of love an overtone
to what transpires between us.

Our Words: Deepening the Conversation workshop 7/27/13