Tiverton

I

Outside the men were
drinking bottles by the fire
and laughing.
The women were inside
drinking wine and saying,
whatever it is they say,
when we’re turned away.

I saw you through the window
beyond two orbits of chatter,
standing there alone in the kitchen,
unsure of nothing,
eating crackers
with your tiny hands.

I had stopped listening,
but I kept laughing
because I didn’t want
anyone else to see.

II

In the morning I remembered
whatever it was
that I learned the night before
when the house--all but asleep
conspired us a minute.

From the porch, it seemed
worthless to say
how many stars they were
but there were enough
to make a sifter
through which
something could pass slowly
and then go back
like a colt
whose reins were tied to a pendulum
or lassoed by a coward.

From a foot away
I knew you were cold
but you stayed
for whatever charity
the new year allowed.

I felt the same
as I had in the old years
like I had on the same
jacket I wore when
I was younger
but by then it was too late
to walk to the beach.