When Venus
born from foam
fully grown
steps to the sand
sun-hot
she stops—
a step back
into surf
and again
the green waves surge
and a rose scent
sweeps against
her skin
still wet
and a clamshell
cream and pink
curves up again
from the sea
to tenderly cup
her feet.

Begin with a suggestive stone,
turquoise tumbled round
sometime in the years
of storms
that wash the arroyo clean.
Set in silver
with a hidden pin
and clasp,
one stone
for the abdomen—
silver for the rest.
Let eight legs
extend, soft-angled
to catch at
the hem-edge
of your shirt—
even this quick hug
after so long
unexpected in the street
heartbeat to heartbeat
hardly hurts.

for Mikaela

Rest your head
a moment more—
a daydream
does small harm.
This portico,
warm with curves
and humble
household charms,
offers passage
as you gaze out
past earth
fresh-turned
toward the young
magnolia tree,
shy in shiny leaves,
lone grandiflora
on this palm-lined street.