I Can Never Get Enough Of Looking At Him, by Maxine Mayer  I CAN NEVER GET
ENOUGH OF LOOKING AT HIM
 by Maxine Mayer


 I can never get enough of looking at him.

 He suspends disbelief in me -
 I must believe, accept, engage.
 Fall.

 He smolders - (it's not English) - at me.
 It's not English. It's not proper language at all.

 When Winter closed my heart (forever) - (so I thought) -
 I mistook shock for death.

 Winter should have frozen me in perpetuity.
 I thought it had.

 Alas, I'd made a (big) error - my error.

 Spring's silver green shoots spring up.
 Without my say-so.
 Without a word of acquiescence (yea or nay, nor by-your-leave) from me.
 Up, a flower.

 I lick dead things, of the earth.
 I am respectful but they are still dead things, dry.
 I am of the earth.
 He sniffs the flower.
 
 I raise my eyes in wonder,
 eyelashes beating against my brain
 in the windy rush of Summer rain.
 
 In wonder, joy, aflame.
 Of a sudden, I know my name.
 And I know his name.
 
 Seasons follow one the other. Autumn comes.
 
 I can never get enough of looking at him.
 ******
 Maxine Mayer
 NYC - 7/23/99

 Hope you enjoy this one - that it's not too bad! Thanks!
 Love,
 Maxine
 maxmayer2@juno.com

 http://members.tripod.com/~MaxineMayer/index.htm

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