Confession to Saint Sub Rosa

Some loves haunt you

Photo by Brice Cooper on Unsplash

We were secret mostly to ourselves.
What did we fear to admit?
Who, Saint Subrosa, did we think
we were fooling?

He took me to see the big trees
outside San Francisco. Days of hunger,
always laughing, casual, as if
we weren’t already in love.

Enfolding us, old growth soaring
to reach sun and fog, forest primeval
where…