Push

 

Push

 

If you cornered me by the pool’s edge,

or pushed me against the hot tub,

I might finger the fungus that grows

on my ankle, my soles, between toes

for don’t we all yellow with age?

There’s comfort in that, or maybe it’s mellow,

I’m sure, the way I saw you look

that you’ll push. Push palms against water

that laps them like a minute tide,

milk kittens soft against my rippled fingers

push water aside but watch it fill the places:

nature abhors waste, cannot abide spaces,

cannot bear a vacuum, makes all haste.

Ask King Canute, if you could, if he was real,

did he not see you smile at rolling waves?

Twinkling at me, pushing years away,

thought maybe we could ebb back time,

have it again, but different, together,

forget futures that happened of childish choice,

that was real love flowing from your voice.

With both of you sat there and time slipping,

I smiled to witness bold fate winking,

it pushed at my heart, but then pushed away,

hearts drawn with hands, clean swept sands

and the tides closed over yesterday.