The white lace of her gown
Billowed up in the breeze
Tracing her outline
In stark contrast
To the sheets
Where she lay the night before
She wed him to the curtains
awoke this morning
To a pillowy yawn
Unstifleable blue
The smell of birthday cake
On bare legs
Clouds in morning commute
Overheard to speak
of a tender transience
More solid than real
We are profound
Original lovers
discovering staggering secrets
Everyone knows
The Canon
Her dress now
the size of mountains
Ephemeral in the palm
of your golden fronds
Palm of your hands
Hand over your heart
In the mist
In the midst of new love’s comfort
Your arms the ghostly aspiration
Dissipating into the light
Very beautiful poem. You make it easy to visualize waking up there.
Soon you will know it first hand!