M I C H A E L    H A R L O W

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Bride with beautiful feet

  
All these empty hours eating air,
waiting for some goddess or other
dear Sappho, to arrive kindly on a whisper
of wind, on the wings of pretty sparrows

yes: to take her ease, to lean back
the right touch in the right place, to take
with great style the pleasures of our company,
and greatly: water in one hand fire in the other

we sing you – and for love's want
and sunlight among flowers, we make
the 'air be music with your name.'