[Originally published on February 8, 2014, as “Second Saturday’s Sonnet.”]
An unexpected gust puffs flames into
the candles, blowing suns across the glow
of water. Flashes let the waves slip through
like fabric over muscles in the flow.
The water gathers up; the weighted air
massages down. The river rolls to take
delight in every touch, disrobing where
a boat unzips the dazzle with its wake.
A squint can filter all but the caress,
that net of dancing crosses, as if sight
could isolate a touch, as if the press
of skin to skin could unfurl sheets of light.
She cups the river water where it’s calm
and cool. A sun disc flutters in her palm.
| Copyright © 2015, 2023 by Eric Meub Eric Meub, architect, lives and practices in Pasadena. He is the adopted brother of the artist, Susan C. Price. They respect, in their different ways, the line. |  |
Absolutely gorgeous, and I don’t think I’ve ever re-read this poem (in all the many times I have re-read it) with as much appreciation for the late, dark hour..by candlelight.
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