Relationship we have
One ours isn’t
Confining like a
Plastic bag suffocating
And sweating ours
Is cotton and
Wool cooling yet
Warming when the
Worlds heat and
Brisk winds beat
And blow ours
Breathes filling our
Lungs with precious
Air allowing us
To be you
I and We
And now you
Sit in a
Seat on a
Plane coming back
After your trip
Like an adventurer
Standing on bow
Saying goodbye to
The jungles mountains
And arid plains
Back here to
The sleepy city
I wonder how
Long you will
Remain satisfied with
Me knowing that
I offer the
Same exploration here
With my body
It’s like caring
Fingers dancing across
My ribs making
Me giggle like
A bouquet of
Spring daisies found
On my doorstep
Sometimes it’s like
A horse at
Full gallop sweating
And sometimes it’s
Like that first
Late November snowfall
As we gather
For the holidays
Sometimes it’s like
That yet sometimes
It’s the dripping
Eaves after rain
Or a warm
Towel after shower
Or sometimes it’s
Just your voice
Whispering in my
Ear those three
Delicately simple words
That you say
Only to me
And then just
As the line
Went dead an
Envelope glided in
The mail slot
Inside you said
The things that
You couldn’t before
Sitting on floor
The now damp
Letter bled as
I did reading
The words goodbye
Now silence in
Worlds of memories
Like low tide
Love is subtle
My life’s men
Have become like
A series of
Postcards of places
Past filed in
A box called
My heart hidden
In the basement
Of my mind
Sought only when
I’m no longer
Being an explorer
I open it
And look at
Them remembering Curitiba
Or Andes or
Denver or Paris
They each bring
With them memories
Of the mountains
Of shoulders the
Slopes of throats
The bellied pastures
And eyed lakes
Men that have
Been long ago
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 