REMEMBERED LOVES: Miranda

Seated in a cafe,
an auslander,
you held a book aloft
like a dove
your eyes did not leave the page
when you puffed your cigarette
or sipped your cappuccino.
Ah, that poise — I admire it still.
In you I found what became
the perfect equipoise
to the chaos of my life.

Now, after a strenuous walk around the lake,
my only thought is:
where are you?
where have you gone?
that body I held so close
flesh to flesh and bone to bone,
where is it now?
has it aged with grace?
Do you still have the look of an auslander?

By day we lived in bookstores and museums,
twilight was for lingering on cafe terraces,
and at night we merged in a spasm of joy.