Friday, December 30, 2016


Jervis McEntee, "The Hudson River Valley," c. 1874

Not sky-clad, but almost: washed with white gold
from head to foot in the weak winter light. We lay
dovetailed, watching the sun rise and kiss us both,
stars settling under the cloud cover. Were we ever
that young, then—will we ever be so young again?
What they know about focus, those image-makers,
won’t help them see: though we dim with age, my
beloved and I; so radiant within our jeweled bokeh.

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