JUST A SESTINA
Just
give me
one small hint,
like the way you
catch a flash of light
in the depths of your eye.
I
can just
catch your light
whisper. Let me
lean closer to you.
Say it once again. "Hint,
hint,"
your eye
winks, then you
seem to adjust
your gaze, look at me
through dappled gauzy light,
light
with hints
of dreamy
afternoons. I
take a breath. It's just
the light and me and you.
You
smile. Light
fades to just
the faintest hint
of glowing. Your eye
holds secret alchemy.
Me
and you:
it's what I
know . . . past twilight . . .
fleeting glimpse . . . brief hint
of something more than just
you, me,
late light, the eye
obscured, the strangest hint . . .PHILIP CARLSEN