AN AFTERNOON NAP
I lay slipping into sleep as a delicious breeze washed over me, blown in from the sea, warmed by the land, clear and sparkling, yet soft as a caress. From the open window, I thought I heard a voice calling me "Mama!" through the green summer, across the long years. Sunwashed, seastruck, windswept, Sunstruck, seaswept, windwashed, Sunswept, seawashed, windstruck. In contentment I lay, not wanting to rouse, in delicious reverie, as if drunk from lovemaking, languorous and mellow, ready for the fall.