Woman, Woman
See how her eye’s soulseining lash
has caught the woman-wisdom from the night,
now night comes to her as a little thing
to stroke and pet and finger
till it purrs:
listen awhile to the persuasive
rhythm of sleep, then touch each closing lid
(and lips are best for this) before tonight
be folded there with some night out of Egypt,
or lips quite part with an old burden of meaning
to let the star-burs glisten on her teeth.
