Love's Migration

I lie above you in bed
feeling again the great bird
explode up from the nest in my back.
The sound of wings beating leaves
and twigs down through my blood.
Though already returning
and folding deep in the hollow
between my ribs,
when this season changes
shall we stay and search the land
and beat the brushes with a stick
to make it rise,
or simply be there to remember
this beauty it scatters in us...

Short Love Poem

Even when you are gone
from me all day
it is only wonderful poverty.
The landlord begins to sing.
I move to another kind of song
across the dance floor of our bed,
the hand enters through the skylight,
even when you are gone.

After a Waitress

I would like our two bodies
to rest beneath us at night,
like the shoes of a waitress
beneath her bed in the dust,
having carried all they could
all day to the lives around us.

Watching Five Women Swimming

There are five women swimming this pool
in San Francisco. I am watching a woman
who is eight months pregnant,
the one in the two-piece bathing suit
with her glistening skin rising
and sliding beneath the water.
The rows of seats above the long pool
are empty, I am the only man here,
It is early morning. She has turned over
on her back and looked up at me.
I feel her eyes open me again
as they did that first night.

The other women are leaving
She keeps pulling herself slowly
across the water on her back,
the full islands of her breasts and stomach
moving from her thighs opening and closing.
The new, other life has turned over with her
They are one body circling wider beneath me
under the sun flooding our lungs. All water
desires gravity, to go downward. She is lifting it
and more. I belong to the country of her stomach.
I breathe and come from the ocean around it
Her every stroke pulls me deeper into them.