I Dream of Arms Reaching

I Dream of Arms Reaching

I dream of arms reaching
for me in the last nook
of night, just before Dawn
trails her resplendent robe
across an awakening sky;
or symphonies of sleepy breathing
gentle in my ear; or flesh
pressed upon naked flesh as
flowers lie, perfumed, in a breviary,
but I wake weeping in the waste
of my empty bed for lovers gone,
lost, or cast aside.

Lovers came too easy, then,
in the days of my noon.
Aphrodite’s favored child
and arrogant as a peacock,
I cared not for love as a field
to be nurtured, only to be reaped.
In days of abundance, Wisdom
came too late, and twilight
now finds my hear a desert
forbidding, lonely, cold.
But still, I have known Eden
so dreams must forever suffice.

May 8, 1998


About elrondsilvermaul

I never know what to say about myself. I let what I write try to speak as to who I am. I can only add, here, that I am 72, live in a nursing home, am twenty years a cancer survivor, and identify as a gay male. I intend to use this blog as storage for poems? written over the long years (and still being written). This does not preclude other uses.
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