Quiet Pose



In the haberdashery of my heart

I remember

We pulled figs from pregnant boughs

Strange music

A call to prayer

In a bath we gorged on mangoes

You licked my fingers

A scent of jasmine cloys the air

Lost in medina, a one-eyed urchin shows the way

The stars are different

Even the sun does not burn

From a train, the sudden surge of robed men on horseback

Laughing, laughing, upturned faces in tropical drench

Easy nonchalance of youth

Careless stains

Trampled blossoms disregarded

Wendy Walker 2000