La Petite Vie

Love is the kindest
expression
of absence —

Or else
is a day
by the river,

in which by
motion
it becomes clear —

there have been
in an hour an
infinite train

of rivers, & which
did you want
to see? One

comes slowly
to realize
there is no evading things

(the heart will have
its way, though
its will go

unfulfilled),
& there is no shame
in this.

The pleasures in this world —
soft breeze, soft
thighs, a bit of music,

words that make
a good sound —
suggest when taken

whole that the
thing
the body longs for

is not & never has been
some petite mort,
a true thing

known to grass
& the elderly man
with a kind word

in greeting. And
the woman saying
that she is about

to come, as in
going to arrive —
at last to fill

the body held so long
by stewards
in her name.