By Madison 
Date: 16 March 2001

beating to windward

outside the bungalow evening sand chills 
beneath an awning of sky in berlin blue.
there is something sacred of fire on a beach that

draws you close like a newborn to its mother's breast.
when we touch again, I will remember this.
but for now, indefinite circles of arcseconds

clocking voices on a line, in this downtime of the heart.
settled in the cool of night
the flames persist, beating to windward.


M Madison
16 mar 01