a poem by Bill Johnson

I remember the night
we couldn't sleep
I tried to count
one by one
the tawny hairs on your back
but you were so tickled
by my breath
that you squirmed about
knocking my nose
so I laughed
and had to start again
over and over
until I got so lost
I rested my cheek in the hollow of your back
and remembered other soft and warm places
I had been with you during the night.
You ran your fingers through my hair then
one going lightly round
and round
into my ear
over and over
the years drifting past
I see looking back
as my cheek rests against my pillow
that reminds me palely of the softness of your back
so that closing my eyes
I can count the tawny hairs on your back
from memory
and feel your fingers in my hair
one running lightly round
and round
into my ear
over and over
I remember that night
when I tried to count
the tawny hairs on your back
again and again
if you would have let me.