People are in love.
I see it. Don’t you?
The girl in the outdoor café tilting her head
For a better angle into her lover’s heart
And those women with their hands
So lightly resting on the strong arms of their men
As they promenade down Broadway.Yes, the lovers are out in the warm city air.
There is perishing and birthing all around.
And I am here. I am among you.
At home. At last.
You ask about my beloved.
I am my beloved.
I am well pleased.May 2007
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