AUBADE
Kate C. Richardson
The geese flew by as you entered me,
Crying in joy at coming home again
To the river.
The sounds of the geese rose
As our throats swelled with
Waves of pleasure.
And as the gray wings sounded
In the sky, gray light
Filled the room
Where our bodies lay entwined
On the shores
Of dawn.
“Imagine,” you said, rolling away,
“A lifetime. A lifetime
Of Sunday mornings.”
Then I saw our love spread out
Onto a sea of Sundays, ringed by
Beaches of weekday cares.
We heard the geese land on the river,
Sinking into the green waves as
We turned to each other,
Opened our hearts’ wings, and
Flew into the morning.