Solitude

I shape a sexton
with my arms
trying to imagine
the distance

between these stone cliffs
and in-coming tide.

How long do I have
to shadow no one
and leave my hair untethered
from her fragrance, free
to soak in sea spray
and sweet broom.

Miles off
She stands in a great house
with a grand piano
and many guests.

Silhouetted
in pale saffron --- the shade
of Madame Bovary's gown,
she flirts
among rich men

seeking compliments,
generous favors.

Yet, when their debt
overwhelms, she rushes
to the garden.
and summons me, her breath
quick and startling
as a night bird's rasp.

Cast in her image,
I become the solitude
that saves ---if only
to recall
a younger day, a younger self
when she loved one
of her art students
at the Sorbonne.

Who seduced whom
is irrevalnt, what's retained
is the refuge she found
behind velvet-drawn curtains

and his eye catching
her luminous face
like sea water
capturing the moon.
____________________
The beautiful artwork is called "Nuit de Decembre" of "December Night" by artist,
Marie-France Riviere. Please visit more of her lovely work at --
www.griviere.com/expo2000.