It had been a Thursday

Unlike any other

You were walking around

With little or nothing on

And called this small cottage

Your Rohmer house

After the film maker

Cool grey flagstones

A wooden table

Black coffee

Novalis open by a window

That shared its situation

The air is already warm

I could hear the outdoor shower

As it echoed across the dew lawn

I was watching you without guilt

In the long maidens mirror

Thursdays in late April

Are not supposed to be

Thursdays in July

Eighty Six plus in the shade

Give or take a mood in breeze





Erotic Poems of Summer