>no kiss to heal
i feel so naive, the way
children devour paternal love
with no intelligent comprehension
but understand when the thing is too fragile
when the lonely couple is weak, i
wean myself off petulence then cut
what remains, hard diagonal slices
stick to the soil, resolved in nude patience
and, now, free of sexuality. opposed
we are when our lovers sicken in the Fall
so natural, the sickness its opposition
its patient, weathered color; out of a breeze
your son will snatch the maple seed
straight soft fingers
sticky with sap, pull apart its belly
and press it to his nose.