First Love Poem

Waking, with a dream of first love forming real words,as close to my lips as lipstick, I speak your name,after a silence of years, into the pillow, and the powerof your name brings me here to the window, naked,to say it again to a garden shaking with light.This was a child's love, and yet I clench my eyestill the pictures return, unfocused at first, thenalmost clear, an old film played at a slow