Perturbation

Our places in the world long since set,
Cemented, being dull, and stripped
Of hope of perturbation, for the better
Or the worse, we caught each other's
Eyes across a table bearing beer and
Food, two pairs amid many others,
Cousins, aunts, our own two spouses.
Perturbation after all! She smiled.
Then she looked away. I waited.
She looked back again. We both
Could sense the other pleased.
I'm not sure what I saw in her:
The body going matron-flabby
Wrapped in spandex dark as coal,
The face around those darting eyes,
The braids wound tightly on her
Head. I did know what I meant
To do, despite the crowd, the looming
Spouses, something which would not
Be done, our places in the world set,
But, as the hours straggled by, and
People milled, I saw her rise alone
And set off on a walk. I asked a
Cousin for his Jeep to go explore
The peaks above, and left, and found
Her on the road. I asked her where
She planned to go. She said she hadn't
Made a plan. I then asked if she'd come
With me, and we drove up onto a
Mountain, chatting dully: jobs and
Kids. I stopped when we had reached
A meadow, turned to her as she was
Turning, held her, kissed her, found
A blanket (mountain meadows are not
Grass), spread it as she stood by me,
And we did what the both of us, it seems,
Had meant to do. In time, we drove
Back to the others, spouses with accusing
Eyes, and did our best to reclaim places
Which had ceased to seem so set.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 72 times
Written on 2016-07-26 at 16:00

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