Today's poem is by Cecilia Woloch


Didnít I stand there once,
white-knuckled, gripping the just-lit taper,
swearing Iíd never go back?
And hadnít you kissed the rain from my mouth?
And werenít we gentle and awed and afraid,
knowing weíd stepped from the room of desire
into the further room of love?
And wasnít it sacred, the sweetness
we licked from each otherís hands?
And were we not lovely, then, were we not
as lovely as thunder, and damp grass, and flame?

Copyright © 2007 Cecilia Woloch All rights reserved
from Narcissus
Tupelo Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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