there is time

there is time
and fields of weakened flowers fold
before our eyes
bestowing their permanence on memories lost
and you are long in my eyes
the touch of your feet giving life to the sacrificial wood of stairs
and the travel of my fingers remembers the world of your skin
its smooths and silences;
to the speech of your eyes I am wordless
a sail lost to a thousand horizons
and the heron remains still above its reflection
as our love is searching
in the long neck of night
to swallow an elusive fish
love