Foxglove Years
Adrift in a foreign country, walking in canvas shoes,
I brushed the purple petals and felt
Chemicals invade through my fingertips;
Then kissed my fingers at the statue on the beach, tasted digitalis,
Marvelled at the stoic bronze skin
Pressed tight against bikini red,
As she moved into the sunset.
My heart slowed like a cable car, hanging in space,
And I watched her sweep so lithe and svelte,
Animated in blonde goddess frames;
How close it came to stopping, and for years after
I searched in vain through dreams and waking hours
For her defibrillating vision
To start me up again.
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