The Chinese Screen

Pieces of stone take shape:
become birds in flight,
roses, with thorny stems,
and lower down,
lily pads, the surface of water
a simple curve of a gold
in an artful hand.

I wonder how it might be
if tonight, you sat across from me
in the big chair, laughing
about the dinner party just ended,
making a wry comment about
Larry’s wife.

We might then retire, tired,
a little drunk, and so sweetly,
our dreams water lilies blooming
above simple golden strokes.