to a friend

[abby]

The wind came fast from your old city tonight
and swept the leaves of old trees into each other,
had no beginning and no end.
That wind is directing a sail now,
and a broken gull.
It is riding itself through whitecaps
and its curtain of teeth tugs at the hem of the ocean.
I thought I saw you running then-
your fingers made a mess of the stars,
and your were bordering the heavens,
not quite sure of the appeal of the angels.
You've come back with a thread from their garments-
you said you thought they should be naked.
You told them how we took our shirts off in the car
and how the moon made us silver-haired and pale,
the deep shadows just the ash of too many cigarettes.

[Cate]

I really love this poem Abby. It's beautiful on so many levels.