Gorman
doe-skinned mountains meet
sunglasses with light pink frames
i lift my eyes back up from sleep
california wilds untamed.
Si jeunesse savait, si vieillesse pouvait
fluorescent field-flowers writhe
under the wind, dance like Salomé,
impressed, we take to hills and climb.
out of breath and burning gasps,
your hands create effortless rings
we settle deep into tall, dry grass
warm-and-pink light trawls, haloing.
between these hills, rivers, ravines
i look for something clean.
i look for something clean.
