Nudes

I tried to absorb

all the moments and meanings,

like a sponge, full of

every single occurrence, holding

within:

true to the colors of each light,

traces of your cherished face,

marked with the whispers of the wind,

spools of unwinding sounds,

those words, which blowing into forms

become as ideas,

underneath the umbrella,

the shade, the remarkable gesture,

the motionless event

which covers all shadows:

if it is truly something,

the sound that one overhears, next

to what is often perceived as known,

so perished together,

as sown.