The Rise

Pulled up
         against the cool of a deep wood

We rested
         heads on sides as lovers of love would.

And breaths
         peaceful and mingling dictated our slow moves

Until eyes,
         blue-hot, shown bleary with fluid thought on me

Like Hopes
         hurled past yesterday for winding wonders together.

Taste of Summer
         (on her neck) Autumn and rising in her throat.

There I watched
         her insistent brooding gather, deepen, then even.

All the while
         I saw those moods lift, twist, and heighten.

Then we
         like steep souls steepening, fell away past the gold day

To far times
         wondering over wonder, saved from all our gain.