Meeting You in the Elephant's Song

I met an elephant on the moon
he was tall and elegant
like a British attendant
in an expensive perfume parlor

moving with simple grace
while swinging his trunk
across the white moon dust
creating a fantastical haze

he told me he was ancient
and measured days in revolutions
cast around the earth
in elastic sighs and wails

tilting his head back
he raised his old trunk
trumpeting a sad song
thick with sinews and steam

a heavy wind blasted forth
with an odd Saharan breath
and a Mediterranean mist
impounding a crater oasis

the deluge was your skin
rippling under the water
pressing gentle waves
across the moonscape

with a sudden deep breath
water rushed toward me
covering my pressing legs
as I swam up toward you

your breasts piercing the plane
rose and fell with riptides
swelling up from below
I was pulled toward you

as I reached your shore
drenched in glowing moon water
warm with timeless creation
I slid in to embracing arms

and then I knew the meaning
of the elephant's sad song
echoing forth from my being
with our unified breaths --

it was not really sad at all
but tender with the touch
that carries gentle weariness
of our intimate vulnerability

we all must live with the urgency
of being the last of our kind
roaming the surface of the moon
with the grace of our delicate fragility