Repose - by Nancy Ortenstone
Mosaics at Twilight
© 2002 by PJ Nights
She blinks away the day, loosens
the knot on her robe. Later that night,
maraschinos in Manhattans
black dress and black tie at La Bohème
but for now she takes him in whole,
stretched on the bed. Shadows grow
long cast nets of amethyst
over the room a twist of dusk
makes the familiar exotic. As she nears
- he fragments - becomes a shoulder
a hand She sees
the man he was, one never met,
perched on a stool aura of smoke
and whiskey the casual drape
of arm over the waist of his guitar.
He sings to her alone, in the midst
of the bar crowd, begins the amber
melt of her insides. He is an ear
an eye tuned only to her.
Approaching on a city sidewalk,
collar turned to the wind,
he breathes beat poets
down her spine. She becomes
a fold a crease a subtle change
of contour as legs and arms open
wide, at ease in her vulnerability.
They hide beneath daisies and tall
grasses love young and long.
She in her black dress
he in his black tie
insulated in arias, they drift
a single mind a molecule.
ERWA Sept. '03