The framed glow
of your naked body
silhouetted against
the backdrop
of half-closed blinds
as you dance
and sing
at the stove
to the track
of Mary-Chapin Carpenter
while your hands
like gentle birds’ heads
nip at the coffee urn
ignites inner glow
to my naked frame
laying in wait
on this firm mattress
to embrace you again
with the closing wingspan
of my now strong
now gentle
dancing
singing
self
Roger Armbrust
