On the River Loing
The sky loops over a rose bower,
your arms fall through rivers,
a clear rush of sun
on the tall ferns, between the plane trees,
you swim with me
in the bright poppy water.
Light lets the flowers trail your streamline,
the river moves
through the ancient bridge,
the sky of celandine springs,
the sky of yellow cherries ripe,
light taste in the white grape skins.
You turn with the river lit with sun,
your aura of leaves, aura of lamps
lights the trees on the sandbank gently blazing.
John Swain lives in Kentucky and in France. His most recent chapbook, On the Roof Terrace, was published as a bilingual edition with French translations by Gaëlle Richard and Daphné Brottet.