You, with your hat tumbled off,
On the hill above the stream,
Chewing on a daisy,
Running fingers through
Black-brown curls,
Pulling out dandelion fluff
And smiling,
Are for a moment
Human,
Daisy-chewer,
Tree-climber,
Singer of nursery rhymes
And bawdy medieval rounds
In wicked counterpoint.
For a moment,
There on the slope,
There are no stars in your eyes,
Not even the tossing sea,
But me
With the world at my back,
The reflection of a thousand reflections,
Our watching eyes an endless
Hall of mirrors,
For a single unbreathing moment...
The sound of the water
Louder than time,
And the stars are back in your eyes,
Your hat lopsided on your head,
Crinkling your hair down over your ears.
The daisy, missing a few petals,
Is tucked in your hatband,
And we are down the hill.
I am Sancho once more,
Watching you tilt at windmills
With your umbrella.

by Mad Poetess

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