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The Lover
What is it?
Walking
The Fragrance of Thy Kiss
 
 

Walking


the cantor sings like
a young song leaping over
hills on oakland ave

treetops vault over
englewood rapt with blossoms
my spring's cathedral

thirty elms terrace
9th street sky the domes of day
the mosques of summer

everywhere is
here every age is now
home is before me

out of death the lightest life
the beauty is our
playfulness and forgetting

the rose too sweet for itself
this breast too full
as the day too consummate

and spacious to be anything
the contractions of stars
too intense to hold them

the dewdrop too heavy on
the leaf over the stream:
heart fall into my heart