for D.
Luisa lies sleeping soft on my chest.
Your Luisa. Who I nearly cover
with both hands. So small. Three months old I’d guess.
Yet her breath matching my breath, like lovers
in rhythm. Earth lovers at peace with earth.
She sings in her sleep: her name and your name.
Too soft to hear, yet so clear. Sings of birth
from your body. Deep from your heart she came
almost without warning. Almost a dream.
I’m almost afraid to touch her smooth skin
lest I tarnish its color of pure cream.
I’m almost tempted to…I do pretend
she’s ours. Just for tonight, with this soft kiss.
Our Luisa. I smile as I write you this.
Roger Armbrust
September 9, 2003
