Leda And The Swan By Eli And Rabbi Kohn Poem by Eli Spivakovsky

Touch me gently
No, more gently than that
touch me like you were a swan
who has just waited, in a garden
for the people to leave so he can
assert his territory
Touch me like you would a swan
who, having asserted his territory, exits
his pond and wades over to the empty eatery
now empty of people, and waits for the gardener, Leda,
to warm his legs
Touch me like you would a swan,
no more gently than that
wings expanding with her pupils
touched in great bliss
they own the gardens
they own this park
and she feeds him sweet bread
and he touches her with the endth of his feathers
and nibbles her with the edges of his beak
And when she's turned to the pond for help
He thrusts against her shining dew
as if she were just another spectator
she plucks 3 feathers
and he chases her
O running, running
until she bursts
until the sun is swallowed by the pool
and everything is perfectly still