I sit beneath the tall birchesCarol Fagan
Listening to a thousand shivering leaves
Caressed by a flirtatious hand.
Seductive, Secretive, Suggestive
Speaking a sea-voice song
Twisting leaves in erotic turmoil.
Fixed only by a slender stem
Their ecstasy moulds them to their stand.
They whisper together of surreptitious sensations
Sounds that come in spasms
Like the sea to the shore
Or the high pitch of a lover’s climax.
And I sit here listening
Trying to interpret the secrets that they share