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July 1, 2018



When I reach into the soil

I reach for stars—the miracle


of seed swelling itself into flesh. When

I search for you in the middle of the night


I move towards the beyond—the curve

of your hip a valley I have walked over


and over like a nomad. The cottonwoods

shed their fluffy seed, the tender grass bolts,


the press of summer is upon us. I shift plants

in moonlight to act out this restless stirring


to spread beyond first planting. Tonight

your fingers rub tomato vines, trace the tendrils


of clematis dancing up the lattice on the axis

of the sky. Already we have forgotten


the barren nights. And in the fullness

of this heat, we stand on teetering apple ladders,


reaching for the fruit just beyond the green fur

of leaf—our want a kite tugging to get off its leash.


Then where would we go? Would we find sky

in that floating? Or would we long only for our feet


on the ground, hands in the earth, mouth

upon mouth in a wild, unweeded garden?



~What is your relationship to your own longing, eros and sensuality?

~How does your relationship with the natural world feed and nourish your sensual self?


©Laura Weaver

Photo by Pixabay on

One Comment leave one →
  1. Jennifer Tawse permalink
    July 1, 2018 1:29 pm

    Oh I’ve read this before but good to reread again. Apple ladders stood out this time and what a summer poem of love.

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