Waiter On The Water

Mead
62 So. Allen #3
Albany, NY 12208
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Waiter On The Water

The night you became a messiah
I started to notice more.
The first thing was this path,
Your basic slab, fairly short &; made
Of how many poured stones?
Anyway, it shone incredibly
Where you stood, where you left,
The dark wet grass on either side
Composed of city clover, small tufts
With white buds, hundreds
Apparently

Stars, in fact, a perfect
Match where I laid down,
Where I was raised up.
There was a soft rain drifting, that kiss
Of mist one could live in
Quite comfortably admiring
Traffic lights, their celestial glow &;
Distant buses &; yellow cabs passing

Except you waved your palms over,
An al most touch, the fingers so open,
The skin so close &; I rose towards your face,

That embrace of waiting eyes