Her body moves her
through the moves of love
unwilled, unwilling, and unmoved,

moves her through memory
where she lies and is loved
in the colorless hollow of night.

She responds, resents,
receives his love,
who leads and feels and leaves,

leaves her to study
the mirror's proof
of the silent smooth lie of her face

which she solves, reproves,
denies, renews,
left to rise and brood with the sun.

Composed, she floats
through yellow space
in the window flower of the house;

open and warm,
the thoughts that lodged
in bone dissolve and are gone,

are done, are lost,
and motion alone
resolves her to wordless song.

Though she will love
the moving of leaves
in the wind through the kitchen window,

her noon mood winds
down the afternoon
like a coin spun under the bed,

moves into shadow
leaving a sound
that coils itself down to tight nothing.

When waiting is over,
her silence will hover
above the cold food of distance,

approach, withdraw
like a puzzled deer
pondering sour water:

refuse, remove
to read or solve puzzles,
closed and immune to the moon.

But her other calls
and moves in her will
which will falter despite resolve,

and later her body
will move her unwilled
through love's moves, unwilled and wanting.

2 May 66