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BELLA GIRL BROWNING
I've memorized an eyeful of time
among vertical sugarcane fields,
long narrow tracks of rutted dust
when I marveled at a jewel of sweat
poised upon your brow.
I recall how it trembled
loosened its hold
fell casually down licking
the curve of your brown skin.
I remember how the crickets ceased
thrumming their notched legs
how the hot breeze caught itself
between the stiff cane stalks
how dust settled upon your head,
shoulders, on my boots.
I remember how that single drop
crept into the contoured mesh
of sunshine and shadow on your skin,
how it rose and fell upon your breasts
cupped in gauzy white cotton and sheen.
Had I been bold enough, quick
or brave enough, I might have
raised a long finger forward
toward your glistening face
stark veins in my wrist working
in one deft motion to skim
your moisture dry. As it is now,
I've an eyeful of time in mind
to experience this gem
in it's starting and stopping, wanting
and waiting migration, its pause,
its pulse upon your deeply beating heart.
-Maryann Hazen-Stearns