Golden Pneumas

Golden Pneumas

At first the wind carried me,

catching my weary legs once crippled with worries

and careless whispers, now cradled by the warm breeze

and wrapped in the sweetest words.

I cannot remember the last time I uncovered this skin,

exposed it to sunlight, to movement, feet aching

from the walk across hard pavements and hill climbs.

Your hand on my bare thigh

takes me a moment to recognise it’s mine;

I watch in awe of the goosebumps that grow,

how our miracle bodies react to the cold,

bruised and scratched but satisfied.

Let me rest on this birch tree, exchange a smile

with the panting dog – he knows I know

what freedom feels like amongst the pines.

As do the birds, they haven’t stopped singing

since I stepped outdoors and their gentle presence follows me

like little Cupids,

arrows flying towards the soft lips of my new lover,

alone, as she speaks to herself.