there are women in my dreams
lithe, beautiful things with pageboy cuts
of calm, honorable demeanor
and dangerous hipsway
stepping partially out of doorways
eyes saying
yes and
lets get there

they are there
and i awake again
to the memory
of The Girl in the Green Sweater
and she is made real
and i am supposed to write her a poem
book
song
Life.

well

on the edge of this windblown cliff
i climb back to you
and you wait
the wind moves your loose and dark curls around you
you use the extra length of the sleeves of the old sweater to keep your hands warm
bunched in
held tight
hugged
your arms wrapped around you
Hugged
quickly, one hand is freed
in a quick, graceful , second-nature circle
brushing hair out of your face
tucking hair behind your ear
quickly the arm goes back
around you
and i know as i climb to you
and i see your eyes
and your smile
so much is said there
as you watch me and wait

you were a little cold waiting for me

i know
that i bring to you
only everything
and i seek only everything
and only to climb back to you
with some small gift
i descended to obtain
and i would move the earth
for one small gift
for you