I can still touch
with the fingertip of memory
your Venetian laughter
losing itself in the mist
of Myth & History
here where
Past & Present
are one
& my lips kiss your lips
& your heart under my hand
trembles
like a tiny frightened bird
that would fly away into
a Future
that neither of us know
as yet
only the beauty
of the moment
the simple thrill
of your hand
held in mine
held still
in a forever of time
the trace of your
Venetian laughter
a memory of moon
& water.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-memory-of-moon-water/
