Red River

Swim well across the Rubicon,

sun your soft body dry.

At the bank I’ll wait in chiffon,

as winter fires die.

Come kiss the moss my own thumbs fed,

until you grow your own.

Douse our greatness in Chinese red,

walk my hand through brownstone.

Near you I wax and I mosey,

brave enough to read a bookshop,

hungry to bite a pepper tree,

a maven in your shop.

I refuse to be a bitter black pawn

like Hadley’s Hemingway,

boil the ocean with her skin on!

Give us a little day.

That I give you my permission

to tarry, tarry all

tomorrow's as if time were sin.

Unfinished woman, small.