She loved the sea
to sail on skin of ocean
to skid the surface
in quiet ripples
moving with aid of wind
no fish or bird
so buoyant.
He loved the dark of woods
trees young and old
to bend or lean upon
rustle of leaves
hint of other creatures
of mystery
without horizon.
She liked the silence
solitude
the play of elements
the heart of sun
colors brightened
fall of day
a peaceful harbor
to lie upon.
He liked the beach
stone and shell
the warmth of sand
beneath his feet
connected from solid to solid
to float and not to sink
to drift but not to drown.
As tide and shore
they lost their sense
of edges and beginnings
as each the other touched.
Not ship or gull
they glide and wait
willow to starboard, mate.
B R Taub - June 1980