She watches me
In the dreamtime...

She pauses in tenacious indecision,
naked toes poised above the water...

Sheathed in tears,
Some edges slice...

Not caress, nor
nudge, nor even tap...

[In honor of Margaret Findley]
'She walks in beauty...

Against the moon
No assassin's blade could strike so deep...

She calls my name,
(no! whispers...

Spin a little,
stumble...

No skin of silk,
No atar of rose...

I want to drink of you,
to drown in you...

"And what did you do then?!"
I shrug stoicly...

Morning comes
And I turn...