"Matilde: the name of a plant, or a rock, or a wine, of things that begin in the earth and endure"
- opening lines of "100 Love Sonnets" by Pablo Neruda


Matilde (I)

It is the December of my life
The cold wind howls off the ocean
Grays and whites are my colors matching the dirty snow
The sun, draped behind sailcloth and unpainted shutters, shrugs its last light

Inside my room I am alone
My somber memories stare at me through cloudy windows
Their reflections filtered through the prism of my mind
The colors bleed a tapestry across the wall

The projector hums as your image begins to fill the screen
First the sepia tones then the flesh
Finally all the colors burning across the back of my eyes
Which are now closed in perfect focus

The lady whom I once loved and who loved me
Smiles and whispers something in the darkness
 

 (II)

The only sounds you make
Are whispers in the darkness
You stand naked before me
Hand outstretched to touch my face

You breathe my name in 3/4 time
We waltz across the magnolias
And the petals emit a fragrance
That reminds me of springtime

I am surrounded by my feelings
Which have emerged from hiding
They too dance naked as the sun begins to rise
And the night creatures play their final song
This poem has become my love
This woman has become my poem


 (III)

My emotions are delicate creatures
Easily frightened, a dubious quality
When you thunder they retreat
Back into the asylum of my mind

When you sing they come forth, timid
And fresh-tongued, air-buoyant
Riding and writhing the rhythms
Sentient beings, sensuous, sinuous

Elfin ears are perked, eyes fastened
Time elapses and with each exposure
The fragile integument begins to crumble
Like chitin in metamorphosis as the monarch

Emerges from its chrysalis, transcending
The worm, exploding into a new kind of beauty.


 (IV)

Sometimes your music stops, the silence
Echoes like the eye of the hurricane
The only sound the cries of the gulls
Fleeing before the approaching madness

In those moments I hold you close
And begin to play my own sad song
Upon your face with my grieving lips
And trembling finger tips, you ache

Then cry in desolation, your sobs
Break the silence and change the mood
You relax beneath my touch
Stone transmogrified to sand, the grains

Draining through my fingers and in the falling
A rebirth of your song, a hymn, a benediction.


(V)

Sand passing through a glass
The hours spill like water from a vase
The flower dances into midnight
Your laugh echoes on the blossoms, echoes on the blossoms

As laughter fades to nothing
As colors lose their vibrance
And shape its definition
I'm confused by the quiet, blinded by the noise

Years pass by in minutes
I sense the shadow presence
Delicate hands seize my wrists, insistent
My eyes are closed but in that instant

Our truths become the substance of myth
Once upon a time  I was in love


Bob McAfee - 1/15/97