Bloom

i cast
an orchid
from the rialto last night;

the moon was half-full,
not of water
but of light:

--translucent--
a kiss...
blown.

it drifted
with the tide
down
beyond my eyes,
promising
in ivory
to reach you unchanged while you
slept.

the orchid,
it drowned kindly
in a swirl of soft foam
and i sat on cool stone,

unfurled.

Copyright 1995 by Terra Elan McVoy -- from the table beneath the hand