Christina Hutchins She & I are giddy. Behind us are so many lost days, we laugh seventy times an hour. Passersby smile. Someone has whistled. Yes, giddy. But still, & more than it was, the lyre’s in my lap, my small boat adds a shadow to the stream. We work, a volume open on the low table between us. I’m glad to know there will be trumpets in Krakow. Whether music or light, love everywhere is preserved by its dispersion. My lover, I won’t forget the children’s voices, how they called to us from the playground, nor our curious circumambulation of the fountains. You have become me & I, you, so we continue.
Note: The line, “Of course, if you are squeamish, don’t prod the beach rubble,” is taken from the real Sappho.
Crab Orchard Review