The Bay Bridge

The lights of the Bay Bridge
on a late summer evening
I see them still
hundreds of hours & miles away

A little incandescent magic crowning the night
the cacophony of details exploding overhead
these fireworks ignited by so little;
a yellow dress, a smile
the angle of bodies and pool cues
stories told & affection received

Time out of kilter,
magic at play
that collision in & toward each other
set in motion in a decisive yet indecipherable moment

Now here in my bed
the moon recalls the Bay Bridge
my room is bathed softly in light
my body has not forgotten details

The lights of that June evening
send night music to the north
dancing now across the bridge of my nose
pure magic and joy
caught over the slipstream
with a delicate paper umbrella

written August 28, 2010

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