In-Terminal Rose (Love Poem)
Coral rose in the garden in June, and another rose,
another coral, the dye shading the garden floor, close
to me, jewel after June rain, flare of integral color,
rose in the dusk, hoist of the petals, pillar of thorns,
the light on benches and doors going out.
The dream I started to remember went out of focus.
Suspicion of some kind in the dream, apprehension
in the dream, left unverifiable. In a garden in June.
The intent of the dream itself, an unknown act
whatever significance I give to it. And the mood
that follows, how it happens, the connections
come apart. The coral light is closer but unclear,
also without intent. The coral light is open.
The nude coral, the color of her lips, the shadow
color under the coral petal, under the hoist
of the branches. And walking back up the stairs
the dream is vaguely absorbed, in the dusk,
indeterminate sincere trust within that mood,
another intent I can not name. A breeze comes
out of the shade, remote coral and aquarial light
in the casement window, opposite the garden.
I will join her in there, the rounded coral shored up
in the turn of her hips will draw me in,
latent with another smell, all the little vague
awakenings, and coral, and dusk full of moisture
that feeds the rose beds.