By Toklas
Date: 24 October 1999

Rock Sculpture at English Bay

                         The sculptor heaves the granite
                          with his short, stubby hands
                           and shapes, lover by lover,
                          the multitude of fallen stones.
                       Limbs jutting from abstracted clothing
                        Of spray and sand reach to touch,
                         To taste, to feel the perfumed air.

                              Perfect lovers balanced
                             in breathless moments, wet
                              black, shining rock etching,
                    cutting small agonies from a graying curtain of sky.
                     At their stony feet, a light breeze stirs the waves
                      who washed up to their sand-dazzled thrones like
                           worshipers, hinting of salty kisses,
                       murmuring small benedictions as they fall.
                          
                       We watch the play unfolding before us,
                          you nuzzle the nape of my neck,
                         we draw our shapes on the eerie stage,
                      lover by lover, rising from the rocky shore.
                            When dusk falls, we steal just
                           a touch of each other, our shadows
                          falling into each others' tangled arms
                         --wrapping ecstacy in glowing, ruby sands.

                        We drift down the seawall, and I look back
                                 at the encroaching tide--
                         the melancholy stones wavering on the shore
                     and feel the waves tugging relentlessly at our feet,
                           the sea kiss us like Judas in a dream!