Again --

There, in the dark, between

the wrought iron fences

and the branching trees, under

a hard sky, I wept

for joy, for

the spent

occasion of another day, for

the rolling back of

shame, for the

instance

of arrival, here,

beneath the moon, here

the palm tree

blooms and the algae

explodes, in

a land beyond

horizons, in

a fast shake, a

sudden suture, a glance

unknowing

and aware, here I find my

love

again . . .

*