Green Water By Martin A. Egan November 11th Armistice Day 2010

When the tired old desire for you comes around again

It brings memories, images of far-off quieter days

straggling from my ragged robin heart

These are magic, those moments remembered

Glorious Ones, yours and mine

Like the day we went far into the mountains

And swam in a churning mountain pool

Looking down across a green deserted valley

From where we were then looking up to

Where the water fell from pool to pool

Like spoons arranged haphazard on a slope

I remember staring at my body

Reflected on the surface of green water

Water colder than I have ever felt

remember shivering

Not from cold but at seeing my naked body

Imaged and flicked back to me

By light on the surface of the water

And watching yours

Subside and slide

Along smooth green rocks

So green as to defy description

Rocks and water yellowed body

so polished as to deny all grip

And the water, the green water flowing

Like liquid glass in a deep swirl

About your torso

Clothing you in water

wrapping and protecting you

while caressing your breasts

Your shoulders and your flanks

Far more gently than any kiss or touch

Or even the little flowers I once placed upon your belly

Hoping they would root and feed themselves

Direct from your invisible heart

And later that same evening in your warm living room

Naked on the floor, you holding me

All my damaged exposed manhood

Every iota of distrust melting and pouring away

Like the fast green waters of our mountain river

Not merely procreative juices

But my long held frozen tears

Falling on your face when you asked if you could hold me

How like a child a man becomes

When broken parts are kissed

When Injuries are touched and opened

By the glittering light of Love.