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March Night

I shook off the house like a hooded cape,
And came out, free, into the March-blown street…
At a lash of the gale, at a sight of the cloud-tattered skies,
As a coat discarded,
I shook off civilization
And became wild,
And my naked soul raced the clouds,
And the flavor of the Earth was fresh and primitive…

—James Oppenheim (1882–1932), “March Night,” War and Laughter, 1916

Capriccio

you & i are animal lust
spirit and human emotion
entangled in wild passion

you always touch my heart first
but still find every last place

breaths rise, sweat falls
mine, yours, who knows

bodies wise, minds numb
wills weak, feelings, reveal
speak easy, softly, love
at the tips of our tongues
whisper nothings, give everything
our lips link each other’s souls
with kisses blind, rough and kind

fierce fervor, fever, fire, hot desire
flesh burning, hungering, yearning
begging, seeking, pleasing, please
prey of your hands and at my knees

inhale, exhale, scents, intense
assent, consent, relent, unpent
sweet chords, rhythm, rhapsody
harmony, symphony, crescendo

Terri Guillemets

Alarm ringing true

There was time —
I know there was —
saw it spread out
all ahead of me,
a beautiful infinity —
immortal fresh-faced
clock of opportunity —
numberless, handless
no ticks & no tocks
save for the sound
of distant decades
too quiet to really hear —

but at forty-eight years
a sudden gear-grinding
cacophony, the outspread
blanket of eternity
has begun to suffocate,
wrapped around me
limiting my agility
darkening my path —

I’m having trouble
breathing, I no longer
see that clock open
or free, its movements
now deafen me, its hands
tear into my flesh and
grip tight my throat —

I am choking on
second thoughts
at this midlife hour
this day of reckoning

Terri Guillemets