When we first met there was a cloud that did not falter
but sailed through its streaming blue
with a belly taut and proud,
and upwards of course she billowed,
prima of all the donnas.
Her face? From below, you'd gaze and envy her such poise.
Her eyes were beatific and lightly closed.
She swam sure towards the light, clean across her stage,
and largely gave herself to everyone.
She didn't sing
but in my forehead's bone her blessing spoke.
Later, you were at the top of some very ordinary stairs,
and I shuffled meanly underneath.
If only I had bounded to the top and caught you quick,
whirled round you with a kiss for all four blushing cheeks,
so stopped you short, your hand on the banister,
your foot poised a breath above that damned first step.