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The woman I love reaches
with her lens the fog
that like silken cloth slips over
the dark islands
and the angled rocky shore.

The woman who turns
and holds me while I sleep
also holds the sea, which is ever
shifting, ever becoming new.

Thousands of towering trees
imply their deep mastery of this land
of spotted deer, which bring their quiet,
and otters that curve into
and below the surf.

I would give this island a new name
to serve as a shining thread
to join all small and large lives with what lifts
us toward the sun unpeeling the gray clouds:
that name would be Ahhhhh...

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Copyright © 2014 James Bertolino All rights reserved
from Ravenous Bliss
MoonPath Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission