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

swaying in rhythm

 dancing through these lives,

our hearts channeled of water and fire,

children rapt with circuses

roses press in

our passion sweetens the night,

snow to ice,

licorice to sherbet,

and the moon shadows the clouds

streaming like delighted butterflies

we are roses exchanging petals

shedding our skins,

even our dreams grow silent

drifting beneath these delicious skies

our seeds merge

then separate

then scatter across the skies,

we are slaves kneeling beneath the whip

heads lowered beneath the sword

sprinkling our blood across

miles and miles of winter sand

and we are growers who fast in dignity

hands joined in solidarity

every pore opened wide,

trusting that in the next lifetime

our beaches will stretch,

our sands will breed fruit,

the moon will forever be full

1/20/81

North Edgecomb, 

Maine