Foxglove Years

Adrift in a foreign country, walking in canvas shoes, I brushed the purple petals and felt Chemicals invade through my fingertips; Then kissed my fingers at the statue on the beach, tasted digitalis, Marvelled at the stoic bronze skin Pressed tight against bikini red, As she moved into the sunset. My heart slowed like a cable car, hanging in space, And I watched her sweep so lithe and svelte, Animated in blonde goddess frames; How close it came to stopping, and for years after I searched in vain through dreams and waking hours For her defibrillating vision To start me up again.