Pomegranate soup,
transparent seeds float
in crimson viscous
sweet water
high above the Amalfi
coast.
Birds soar like floating cliff
faces, stretch us awake
in the pungent herbed air
of dear Italia.
These sheets were so cool,
so calm, shimmering our tired
bodies replenished
through the starry night.
White and fresh we stir
and mix together,
languish and linger
slow into love.
Later, coffee and more,
below(often) and above.
In good, easy time
our amazement rises
from this wooden bed,
through the thick unpainted door
we step to emerge,
gazing over the ancient
stone wall the ocean appears, shining
diamond in morning sun.
Today the earth’s birthday
arrives with pomp
and luster, she asks us
in our new language to laze
and lay with her in play.
We roll out into the day,
romp and bluster
like stallions, mares
and colts--
legs high,
eyes wide in smile,
hair flies wild
in grand celebration
of la vida,
each moment a seed
of life beginning,
nourished in sea air
and moist ground,
embryonic,
peaceful,
fine.
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