Archive
07/29/09 - (2)
Wednesday Evening
Could any end-of-July night feel so exhilarating, So elegant, so gentle, so sensual, So billowed, as its still-blue sky-sails are, With so glorious a twilight breeze Turning my hair to combers flowing into night?
Well, I guess yes, even though, I confess, I've known perhaps only half a dozen As majestic as this Wednesday evening is, In whose caress I'm reveling, sipping Beaujolais, Composing a poem for the sky, wind, their nubile light.
07/29/09 - (2)
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