The Sand Hill Review          http://www.sandhillreview.org       2001 November

 

Aubade

 

First minutes of morning.  You

about to call it a night, me

ready for another day.  The birds

loud, echoes in the stillness

of not-yet-day.  The neighbors'

shower water rumbling through walls

like half-heard promises.  Our bodies

stiff—yours too long at the computer,

mine from deep sleep.  We don't speak.

So it is a surprise to hear

your deep "please," lips

pressed to my ear, to feel

water and hands cascade

down my body.

 

Beverly Acuff Momoi