roses press in

we sip from our faces

warm embraces

roses press in

we delight in our voices

waterfalls of light

we pass each other

dancing through our lives,

our hearts

channeled by water and fire,

we are forever children

lost to circuses,

in rhythm we sway

roses press in

our passion sweetens the night,

snow to ice,

licorice to sherbet,

while the moon shadows the clouds

streaming like delighted butterflies

we are roses exchanging petals,

shedding our skins,

silencing our dreams,

drifting beneath these delicious skies

our seeds merge,

then loosen,

then scatter across the skies,

we are kneeling slaves beneath the whip

our heads lowered beneath the sword

sprinkling our blood across

miles and miles of winter sand

and we are the growers who fast in dignity,

hands joined in solidarity,

every pore opened wide,

trusting in our next lifetime

when our beaches will stretch,

sands will grow fruit,

and the moon will forever be full

1/20/81

North Edgecomb,

Maine