her voice closed our eyes,
and when they opened,
there it all was, again
and brand new:
the rows of eucalyptus
like weathered bone
towering behind the stage;
the meadow we huddled in
before it—before her,
the sylph singing in the grove,
lightly pulling down
the skin on her face;
the sunlight turned grey
working its way through
the San Francisco sky,
then deep green through the glade;
the pair of older, moustached
Japanese men to my right,
reclined and pouring cups
of red wine for one another
to enjoy with slices of salami;
the toddler’s babble at my back…
it was all there at once,
the world that is,
a bright shock and then an embrace,
a clean plunge into cool water;
my eyes were open and i held my breath.