You say my name, yet I don't know from where
you learned to curl the vowels like whispered twine
or silken breath of gossamer. With care
you say my name.
You speak and once again - your words are wine
and California poppies, grapes and air
as thin as in some northern mountain clime.
Your voice of elegance makes my name rare;
it takes me to a deeper place and time
where I forget my troubles. In a prayer
you say my name.
