Devon’s hedges closed their arms on either side of me
and made me its lover in one clasp to its breast.

Another lover was the house in County Clare
with the ceiling-high bookshelf, the stable

facing the road two miles from the Cliffs of Moher
where I made love with the howling wind.

The pub in Kilkenny was my lover
filled to the brim with fiddlers

in green, tweed hats, Guiness foaming
over tall-necked glasses.

I was in love with all of it: the hand-clapping,
feet-tapping, the laughter over a bet

involving a herd of sheep, and when I walked
out for a bit of fresh air, I made love

to the sky. Each star gave me
crescent shaped love marks

and as my heartbeat came to a rest,
I leaned over to my lover, saying

your sky is so wide, your mountains so
regal, your earth so deep

and we rolled over into the grass
again and again and again.

03/04/2006

Author's Note: editing ideas needed

Posted on 03/05/2006
Copyright © 2024 Lisa Marie Brodsky