if I could

over,

it would be that sultry

mermaid lounge one

the garden in back

the stairs up the side

the silver man who kissed me full on the mouth

on Bourbon street

and the smell of old furniture wax and perfume from another time

wafting in the street

out on the St Charles waiting for a taxi at 4am

I had some rose colored glasses then

or standing in the front of the club in San Francisco

when my ride forgot about me those hours

talking to the street newspaper seller

thinking maybe

but it was another no

somehow

so suspended, never and always

the moments of life in the vineyard

we made into wine

the old house

our days of roses

planted for a future

that doesn't seem to matter now

except to me

forever the call to action

A moi