SANDSTONE
Time becomes strange. It shimmers
like clouds in the deep black of your eyes,
like heat dances rising across the canyon.
The windmill clacks and turns as the wind blows
and moans bubble to our lips as we draw
water up from inside us.
You laugh. Then we both laugh,
opening eyes to find eyes opening,
lost in each other and finding
us both in the other, all mixed up
with light and dark depth
and sky and reflections.
All this happens so easily and naturally
and not thinking about anything except the joy
of being together rooted in the earth,
our skin warmed by sun and cooled by wind,
redtail hawks soaring, meadowlarks singing,
our mouths purring songs in return.
We take this very seriously. And then we giggle
like crazy mockingbirds in a hackberry tree,
a dusty olive-skinned woman and
a parboiled lobster-skinned man,
lost in love on this time-wild ledge,
rolling down naked the sandstone laughing.
© 2003 by Richard W. Todd
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