Poetry and other Joys
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the sunset, pink flamingos
occupy their muted green and rose water
and sky, their necks in graceful curves;
not concerned with the glowing man
and woman pressed gently abreast to breast
in fading light, at the warm day's end.
One more soft kiss, before the sun is gone
entire, before the moment's green flash runs
buried into arcs of pink. What will happen now
needs permission no more than the birds
must ask to be beautiful, soft-blushing
as the fading light illumes them in the dusk.
Long after sunset, the sated lovers
bury their heads, their mouths softly
in each other's yielding flesh, as into plumes
of feathers. Their sleep will be like flight
into rose, into green, into the perfection
of their own completion at day's end.
Delilah Riordan, 2000
Photograph by Tim Knight. Click
to see larger.