SO FAR FROM DOE BAY

 

So far from Doe Bay we’ve come

since that dusky, July evening

when I first stared transfixed

into your fiery green eyes

while your slender, naked, nubile body

slipped seductively into the hot tub of my anticipation  

on that secluded Northwest Island.

 

Within minutes, all else melted away

except those green eyes

and a familiar conversation

 begun so long ago;

(absent of word and voice)

interrupted only by the splashing of your son

 as he played periodically with your attention.

 

Even before our introduction,

I knew why

I had come to this place.

 

So far from Doe Bay we’ve come;

through nights of fiery passion

entangled as one

(the taste of your body, the sent of your heat)

to Sunday night dinners of garlic and wine

and olive oil kisses with basil and thyme.

 

So far from Doe Bay we’ve gone

since that dusky, July evening

when I first stared transfixed

into your fiery green eyes.

 

So far from Doe Bay we’ve gone.

We’ve gone so far away,

on two separate ferries,

in two separate cars,

as two separate lives

forever entwined in the moment of

one unforgettable hello

and

one

everlasting

goodbye.

© p. donovan