Poem 151: Prelude to the November Stone

Deep in the forest of dark grey green, on a small island
in the middle of a steeled lake, a man and a woman who hardly
know each other, are taking shelter in an abandoned stone hut.
They have been making love, and have been in love for longer
than they can both remember. The lake is shaped like a hand.
The stone cutters hut sits in the middle of the palm and looks
along the ring finger pointing west. The roof of the hut is thatched
in a weave of t wigs, leaves, grass, insects and small animals. It has been
raining for the past twenty-four hours, a fine rain penetrating the earth
and canvassing the lake. The rain is stopping. The clouds are mutable
with light and appear to be breathing in the lake .The conversation between
the clouds, the lake, the earth and the trees is slowing down and slipping
into another time .There is the sound of a train in the far off distance,
it creates a tension that is released when the man shifts his position
The stonecutter has placed twelve stones encircling the hut, naming
each stone for a month of the year. The mans eyes caress the flank
of stone named for November .He looks down at the woman folded into
into his side, he sees the slow parade of curves both public and private
that pave her body. He sees the concave and convex light and shadow
lines that undulate and flow with her breathing. The flow of the curve
of her body moves out and into the sky, and from this he imagines
the moon curving through the earth, and out into the cycling of space.
There are no more hard angles, even his thinking feels elliptical
here in this space and time which seems without a beginning or ending.
His eyes continue to sweep across the anvilled lake. He notices
stepping stones just below the surface of the lake, these stones would
enable the man and woman to appear as if they were walking on water,
or so it would seem to the casual observer, but not such a miracle
to the dark winged kestrel that flies a shadow across their faces.
The woman is sleeping, her smile sheds silver onto his shoulder.
he leans over to touch her hair and finds that he is crying.