- Second Date
The table connected us, its flat planeA continent of wood. You on one coastI on the other, prairies of food between.And I, reaching for the salt and pepperAlmost brushed the back of your handWhich you drew back, not in dislike,But perhaps sensing the lighting that mightArc fingertip to finger if they touched.I drank it all in, this indoor island,Like the water I sipped nervously,Wishing only that I had the courageTo simply reach out, discover your hand.While above the continent, airy wordsAnd smiles, the weather of our table-talk,Rolled and mixed like summer breezes,The scent of your breath a spice from the East. [End Page 55]
Andrew Gudgel is a writer, translator and poet who lives in Maryland. His essays, poetry and translations of Classical Chinese poetry have appeared in Lily Poetry Review, Speckled Trout Review, Western Michigan University's journal Transference, Brevity magazine's blog, Under the Sun, and other publications. He is a graduate of Johns Hopkins University's Science Writing program and the Kenyon Review Writers Workshop.