your supple golden hillsides are

heaven.

you ask me to tread slowly

along the path when we

make love. you say so

little that the faintest breeze

rippling from your lips draws

me in and I listen.

I listen like I’m trying to

hold onto a dream while

rolling and rising from a

lush valley slumber.

I see you rolling and rising

from this soft floor.

Calling lightly

and I gallop

can’t help my stride.

I reach your promenence

and find ravens at the summit. Ravens like

us that travel in twos.

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