8.07.2022

the last time ever

He stands freezing in the dark courtyard looking up 
at their bright windows, as he has many nights since 
moving away. Because of his promise, he does not 
go up. He is thinking of the day she came back 
from the hospital. They did not know her then. 
He was looking down because of the happiness in her 
voice talking to her husband as they went across 
the courtyard. She saw him and, grinning, held up 
the newborn child. Now it is the last time ever. 
He finally knocks. Her eyes widen when she opens 
the door. She looks to indicate her husband is home 
as she unbuttons her dress. He whispers that his hands 
are too cold. It will make me remember better, 
she says, and puts them on her nakedness, wincing, 
eyes wild with love. It is snowing when he leaves, 
the narrow street lit here and there by shop windows. 
Tomorrow he will be on the train with his wife, watching 
the shadows on the snow. Going south to live silently 
with perfect summer skies and the brilliant Aegean. 
 

No comments:

Post a Comment