THESE DESERT HILLS, 8/11/10

I walk through these desert hills
beside a highway
In the heat of the day
Here now, but not inside
Inside, I am in a cool place
an old place,
Sitting in an outdoor cafe
in the shivering cool of a drizzling day
on a cobblestoned street
with you
Drinking cheap Spanish wine
huddled in our tattered elegance
warm only in our closeness
and our secondhand coats
You, ageless beauty, still young
me, fading fast to some lesser thing
We would talk of art, words, and music
drinking cheap Spanish wine
on a cobblestoned street
in the drizzling cold
But no,
I am here, in these desert hills
and I have no idea where you are
in some outdoor cafe?
on a cobblestoned street
drinking cheap Spanish wine
with the man you love?
Perhaps so
And I am in these desert hills