The Yew Walk

What is the distance 

between us, you said

when we slept naked

but barely touched;

the quilt thrown back,

streaks of moth-dust

across your breast.

 

That night I dreamt

you brushed against

the trees of the yew-walk;

the strange fine pollen dust

shook out,

sifted most eerily

inside your dress.

 

I do not know

why its green-gold

so long unloosed

kindled your nakedness –

or why I woke to kiss

the estranging dust

the single flesh.

from The Lady and the Hare: New and Selected Poems (Bloodaxe Books, 2003), ? Pauline Stainer, used by permission of the author and the publisher

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