sonnet

we will go riding,you behind the wheel 
driving me,my blind eye focused on the sky.
we will motor up to mahlow & i'll wonder
why i feel alone & when i'll die.

silly thoughts.greek food & a glass of ouzo 
in the afternoon will lead me to confession
if not god.i'll stumble through a conjugation 
& i'll place a promise on your foreign tongue.

back to lichtenrade & my emails,wondering
who will write & how,if i'll ever see
my ancient enemies again.for now
we'll turn the music up & make-believe

(but it's real enough,your sturdy thighs 
near mine.your hair.this glass of wine).