Sometimes

the wine is white and red and pink and purple if you love it
the streets are munich montreal paris and mars the moon you love
the men are black and white and green and blue which you may love
women are blonde with coloured eyes and brown lips for you to love
the year is gorbachev or bush or hussein or me or me and you who love
the day is first and last and work and fun and past and present future
days of love which could be yellow orange light or dark as you do love
the hours the moments full of snow and lakes and depth you loved
the flowers that have never smelled in english there is no real word
for smells which constitute the worlds of love and gods and bodies
the smell is you the wind of fingers touching eyes the smell is time
the time a time sometimes timeless no time in time long time ago
a touch of time in a bottle of old wine french as you usually love it
the smell of life which never was inside hotels where people live
a smell of fresh young and loving branch of a tree across this street
the wine is green and brown and deep white red and cold as you love it
green hair dark brown lips white lips cold soft lips melting in love
a drop of wine on warm wet lips green hair reflection in a glass
the streets are amsterdam new york istanbul sofia bangkok vienna venice
new orleans jazz these streets are jazz piano played by old hands
music full of smells of love of old silly love naive idealistic love
parents' love children's love of my love god's love of piano sound
 
written originally in English in 1991 and published 1992 in the poetry collection "Chicago Blues"