An Interesting Thing

 

It’s an interesting thing, the view
from pillow, a corner of an eye…
all the way from what I knew
to what I know
she lay in a shallow nest
created by linen, by bodies, by
the effect of time and movement
she watched me I know, like I was
her…seeing a new view
her and me, different
in the idea, the sense
new because ideas are new, not
that they really were, many
have had them…just
that the moment was something
never seen, felt…so…
in small moments and in the Half
dark of a Sunday morning
it was new to me
and in her just sleeping eyes, I saw
an interesting thing; a thin
slice of who she was, her thinking
in her own idea…
…I saw her
and in that spark, that moment
the world slowed
for a second an hour a day
and in my view I saw her
letting me be…just me…
and it was a wonder
…wonderful and all because
of her being her.

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