Poem 8, June 8

I am asleep on the sofa  

when you walk,
all of a sudden
through
the rickety gate
which opens one way
only
like eyelids  

walk into my dream
like sunlight
across an acre of Lake Cumberland
near Wolf Creek dam  

you walk out
of a picture on the wall
with your smile, the one
I find fascinating  

your silence
is an ear to the ground
listening for another woman
I never make love to  

your eyes
are those of a hawk
taking in the whole
field of my soul
where feelings
& thoughts
move introspecting    

I remember
well
when you used
to be a dragonfly
with wings
full of light
come from Old Seventy
creek
at twilight  

these days
I read you
as though you are
a poem e e cummings
should have written  

a poem full
of hidden
meanings
& rhymes
& secrets
that
to understand
the words
the reader
must love riddles 

to understand
you
the ultimate riddle
of love
of sex
of two as one
I read less
into the lines
& more into that warmth
resident in the words