Between Sleep and Conversation

I took a train from France to Italy 
once through the sunflower fields - 
acres of gold stretching
on and on; 
but they were just 
flashes then
between sleep and conversation
and the rhythm 
of the train

I married you in August 
holding aster, nervous hands
I loved those golden circles
set in white
And we looked at us that night 
in the soft candlelight, 
looks we held in full
to hold in time

Now the days are moving 
at time’s determined speed 
and your kisses are so gentle and so firm
between
sleep and conversation
between
each misunderstanding
in the rhythm 
of the endings 
of the days

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