Seeing narrow and close
the fresh rain that hangs like tears
from a florid pome and blurred green surrounds it.
The pinnacle of small details – the tip of a pen pressed
at the page or the placed dish inlaid with memories.
The indentions of your slow intake of breath fills me as you read
the texture from a leather-bound book.
Obsession takes a toll, roughshod over the global view
of landscape and horizon. Still and fixed,
the single moment aches in a story with pain
and the point that tarries after a kiss in the foreground, surrounded by rain.