summer song

by Matthew Stokdyk

a flower smell above the street,
a crumbling stoop between
Ionic columns all replete
in marbles gold and green

I love this ancient promenade
from days that died an age ago:
the deco’s art
(bestill my heart)
with alabaster trim,
reminding me
of fragrant evenings
spent outside with him

among the porcelain
and the stone,
both white, and overgrown
with vines
we sat and spent
three years alone
brooding over wine

time was slow in Sybaris,
in Corinth there’s no clocks;
and when the hour struck in Rome
their hearts were nearly stopped

but ours began to beat anew,
the blood was running free;
and from the forum’s lonely view
the Palatine was lost in trees.

the cadence stretched
and dragged itself
across our nightly bed,
and as he slipped away from me
I wondered what
the young Dumuzi said.