chagall backdrop

There are those who marvel at relics
millennia old while mine are merely
centuries gone from the dawn of the art
of photography

1840
I relish the light
on the fine combed locks
of a young girl in a field
I call her Melissa so vibrant
she is thinking of the morning’s chores
she senses she’s extra pretty
atop the fence rail, head cocked to the left
just right – now hold it

You feel me there as a tickle
the gnaw in the back of your mind
is me, but I’m too far down the road

Then later, delicious fair one
you took me to your room
lonely, candlelit, lilac
I unlace your bodice, kiss your neck
your curls, concentric circles
about your face

Then you gently blow the tapirs
and lower us onto foamy down

The catch-light in your eyes that day
two-hundred year old photons
washed ashore to still your soul
has long since left your body

You have returned to earth
where all you transcend
I hold here in my hand
with most fervent hope
I will will your time again

© Chagall 2014