to Robert Plant circa 1971

it’s midnight – we are now
twenty-three,
if i lean just so out the window
your hand will
curve to the bare
small of my back
while the other will gently
tap the steering wheel,
all of this
just as the California dusk
takes a breathless gasp
at the sight of
night

then when
the smoke has cleared
and tea has surrendered
to breezes exploring their sheer
surface we’ll be
finding bare footing on
the cold metal rungs
of the fire escape
with nothing –  nothing
but to believe in
our immortality and to fill
blank seconds of
night

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