An Evergreen Beginning

There is a place steep,
with canyon walls narrow
as inlets of water newly suspended
under the season's first skim of ice.
There, tongues tangle, one body slips
into another. Emotions arise
like trail-side stalagmites.
Inflections of voice and gesture
float to the surface
far from wary yesterday.

I think of you while passing
through a morning snow squall,
its white outs enveloping me,
suspending me, like the platform
of a body taut with anticipation.

I park my car, step onto frozen asphalt.
A winter wind slips past my neck,
reminding me of your summer breath
on the nape of that neck.

Later, I curl myself into the shape
of your slumber, and as I pace
my breathing to your own
I realize that we are different
and feel a sudden settling
into that difference.

There is no complacency,
nothing commonplace
about the place
we find ourselves in.

There is so much joy in this beginning,
no labor of love, just love's inhalation.

Tonight, as I watch the moon
cut a diamond swath across the bay
I cannot wait to feel the warmth
of your smile, to put myself once more
into your embrace, to feel anew
this thing without name,
this burgeoning emotion,
this evergreen beginning.