My low lidded eyes caress

The manzanita tree

Smooth dark skin drawn bare to a chalice of secret sinews

Wanting my tongue to search again

Along the glowing creases

In the salty sun-dressed morning

Where we made love

She grows there still, in spring

I know it

Easy witchcraft aligns my willing memory

A rustling green emerald gown

Bright breezes borrowed from the listening river

Beauty evermore nevermore

I turn away wearily, in recall.

A brown shoulder of glistened manzanita

In the soft scented morning light of yesterday

And I am undone.