Song for Connie Poem by Bill Berkson

The sun met the moon at the corner
noon in thin air

Commotion you later
choose to notice

Love shapes the heart
that once was pieces

You take in hand
the heart in mind

Your fate's consistent
alongside mine

Unless a mess
your best guess

That is right, thanks, the intimate
fact that you elect it

At corners, dressed or naked, with lips taste
full body, time thick or thin, fixated

Love, take heart
as heart takes shape

And recognition
ceases to be obscure

One line down the center
another flying outward enters