In you I recall
the forgotten rays of summer.
Someone stole a strand of sun
And wove it in your hair.
I went looking for overflowing dreams
And lost them in shadowless days.
Someone let the children roam
And forgot to call you back.
I found a red leaf, red as sex and birth,
Only to lose it in my sex and my birth.
Someone loved you more than sleep
And couldn’t love you in his dreams.
I tried for slumber and peace
But summer slipped from my eyes.
Now it is winter and I see withered leaves:
Brown leaves, half resting in shadows—
How can I ever tire of loving you?
Written on Monday, March 10, 2003