I seem to watch eternally –
through a dozen incarnations now –
a ship at sea off the coast of Spain.
Who would believe it was then
that I first loved you that I last
saw you – Edward – Eduardo –
I cannot say because I do not know
if you were Spanish or English;
you were mine, my only love
that is all that I am sure of –
that and the yellow dress I wore
and my grey shoes with the silver buckles.
I held a long-stemed flower
watching from the cliff as your ship
went down in a hail of orange fire
beautiful yet terrifying – like a sunset
when you hear the wolves howl in the forests.
Five centuries have come and gone
and still I return and always will
return to the hill
and the low stone wall –
always a woman in love with a man
who died half a milenia ago.