LOVERS
 
 
Lovers sense something in the wind,
the way dogs detect strangers approaching,
bearing sweet meat, or weapons.
 
Lovers believe lightning strikes from the sky,
when in truth it rises from the ground, invisible,
until it flashes back to earth to fill the void with light.                  
 
Lovers love to breathe in rhythm.  They lie together
on a shelf of rock above the ancient grasses and listen
to the song of the wild bull and the gentle gazelle.                  
 
Lovers light a candle in the dark to watch their lover dream.
They don’t want the one they love to know how
beautiful they are, learning the forgotten language.
 
Some love the way their lover’s teeth fit snugly in their jaw.
Some love their lover’s laughter.  Some want to know
what no one knows: whom we love, and why.