Joan – March Summer thunder – warm and moist Joan comes, is here, leaves. All my thoughts turn on these moments; love giving birth to itself in our eyes. Our minds follow, bemused at the changes. Hands and eyes, minds and hearts weaving… we talk, our fantasies on the edge of creation, our futures changing with every word. I’m not rational anymore. Slowly my priorities are sinking beneath her summer storm, warm rain of passion. I’m loosing track of time. Even now, after two hours, I wait filled with the ache of missing her and the joy that she will come again. gallagher 29 Mar 86 Irvine
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —