Aubade
I tell you,
the body’s business is passion,
and this only.
The light has followed us into this room,
the small birds sing,
your nakedness is spruce and shadow,
cream and chestnut silk.
Joined, we move,
awash in delight,
unmediated sun and thunder.
In your embrace, I,
woman of most ordinary flesh,
have gained the garden.
Nancy A. Henry
mrseclecticist 