The day proceeds in silent motion
light waves lapping against
the evening,
distant shore where I,
a swimmer of solitude,
wait to climb into your arms
once more.
 
And it is not your smile
that warms me
nor your kiss
but the simple sight of your face,
the one who loves me in triumph and disgrace,
just this...

Riding over the river
on a metal reminder of time/space
crossed to enter your world
I feel the old longing rise again,
a full harvest moon lost in indigo sky
 
In the rhythm of my wildly swaying car
and the cadences of silence, you emerge,
enigmatic as ever,
consecrated in the waters of the East River,
fully alive at last
 
The autumn after our summer I traveled east
seeking you in the siren wail of Avenue C,
a different language than the wind
translated through the green of my garden
 
Whispers from the street placed you
in St. Vincent’s, your body
a highway of tubes and needles,
the same road my father traveled
the last time I saw him
two decades ago
 
Remember the night in the Stage Deli?
You listened for hours while I confessed
all my horrible secrets
talked about my father, his death
I was away
never visited the grave
“Go there,” you said. “Talk to him.”
“Forgive” you said.
I didn’t and now you’re gone too
 
They scattered your ashes
a hard rain over the Lower East side
Still on this bridge between our worlds
I feel the river rise up, heal me with love
And I forgiving me, forgiving you, forgiving him,
no longer need this leaden bridge
to make my way
to you