after Johannes Bobrowksi’s “Fishing port”
At evening, before snowflakes fall
one after the other,
then I love you.
I love you in the uncomfortable bed,
on the second floor of the converted horse barn
with the white light of morning
with a shadeless window,
with the sheet’s iron warmth.
Our mouths are tricked with licorice—
you come, unconcerned with Henri’s key.
The Eiffel has stopped glittering
and the man who raged at his wife
has left the metro long ago.
Here you come with your sweet mouth.
Now you walk across the last snow.
Lois P. Jones’ poetry and photographs have published in American Poetry Journal, Raven Chronicles, Tiferet and other journals in the U.S. and abroad. She is co-founder of Word Walker Press and host of Los Angeles’s Poet’s Cafe on KPFK 90.7 fm. She co-produces Moonday East and Moonday West’s monthly readings in La Canada and Pacific Palisades, California and is the Poetry Editor of Kyoto Journal, a 2009/10 Pushcart nominee, and 2010/11 nominee for Best New Poets.