The lemon bushes overflowed

with the patter of mole paws,

the scythe shined

in its rosary of cautious water drops.



A dot, a ladybug,

ignited above the quince berries

as the snort of a rearing pony broke through,

bored with his rub-down—then the dream took over.



Kidnapped, and weightless, I was drenched

with you, your outline

was my hidden breath, your face

merged with my face, and the dark



idea of God descended

upon the living few, amid heavenly

sounds, amid childish drums,

amid suspended globes of lightning



upon me, upon you, and over the lemons...