To a girl I called my Moon

Do you still want a farm
with goats and tomatoes?
Do you still want an orchard
with apple trees and muddy feet?
Do you still want to wake up at first light
feed hens, chase foxes and fix pens? 

If you do, 
i will still roll on my side when you rise
  &  rinse the earth off your skin when you come in
i will knead your lower back when you lie down
  & tread the vine of your spine with my lips.

If you still want a farm,
I will build the barn.

On Northumberland Street

Before I left, I met a woman in the Doc Martens store,
she had matching burgundy docs and Burberry top
turquoise eyeliner, soft wrinkles and gold curls.

She said she had been dealing with some things,
said she finally went to therapy and now that she’s 75
wishes she did all that emptying at 35.
My dear, she said, we must always reinvent ourselves,
every five years, take a left rather than a right.

Now, here I am, in Paris, reinventing myself
yet, still the man you can bump into in a quiet store at 5.45
and tell all your secrets to.